How It Fell Calm On Summer Night.

My Lady's rest was calm and deep: She had been gazing at the moon; And thus it chanced she fell asleep One balmy night in June. Freebooter winds stole richest smells From roses bursting in the gloom, And rifled half-blown daffodils, And lilies of perfume. These dainty robbers of the South Found "beauty" sunk in deep repose, And seized upon her crimson mouth, Thinking her lips a rose. The wooing winds made love full fast— To rouse her up in vain they tried— They kist and kist her, till, at last, In ecstasy they died.