The heavy hanging air of dusk
Was thick with scent of fainting musk,
And through the tired willow trees
Stirred never sound or breath of breeze.
So still it was, that from afar
We seemed to hear a falling star,
And every drop we heard, that dript
From off the paddle as it dipped.
The fireflies lit their yellow lamps,
And danced along the marshy damps;