THE night is dewy as a maiden's mouth, br The skies are bright as are a maiden's eyes, br Soft as a maiden's breath the wind that flies br Up from the perfumed bosom of the South. br Like sentinels, the pines stand in the park; br And hither hastening, like rakes that roam, br With lamps to light their wayward footsteps home, br The fireflies come stagg'ring down the dark.