TO-NIGHT the air discloses br Souls of a million roses, br And ghosts of hyacinths that died too soon; br From Pan's safe-hidden altar br Dim wraiths of incense falter br In waving spiral, making sweet the moon! br br Aroused from fragrant covers, br The vows of vanished lovers br Take voice in whisperings that rise and pass; br Where the crisped leaves are lying br A tremulous, low sighing br Breathes like a startled spirit o'er the grass.