At the Lindens Shiver in Autumn Dreams

The fields lie wrapt in autumn dreams, 
   Beneath the dim, blue vault of night, 
     The moon, like a bark on sluggish streams, 
         Spreads soft her sail of silver light. 

Beneath the blue, dim vault of night, 
  With the way-worn notes of joy and care, 
     Across the sea of the moon's pale light
       Dark flocks of birds flap the silent air. 

With the way-worn notes of joy and care
   Fantastic shapes with wings outspread,
     Dark flocks of birds flap the silent air, 
       Like a cloud of ominous dread. 

Fantastic shapes with wings outspread, 
   Droning some harsh and ghoulish tune,
     Like a cloud of ominous dread, 
       They darken the sail of the white full moon. 

They darken the sail of the soft white moon, 
    Like pageants of some Valpurgis night, 
     Droning some harsh and ghoulish tune, 
       Their rustling wings are shimmering bright. 

Their rustling wings are shimmering bright
   As in myriad swarms they are passing by, 
      Like pageants of some Valpurgis night, 
        Wheeling their flight to some summer sky. 

Wheeling their flight whence summer has flown, 
    Like dreams and hopes long gone by, 
      Like songs of love our youth has known, 
        In myriad swarms they sail the sky. 

Like clouds a-sail on glassy streams—
    Grey memories of autumn dreams;—
       Like visions of love forever flown, 
         You, serial voyagers, wing your flight
             To some enchanted realm our youth has known, 
                 Beneath the dim, blue vault of night.