On the Cliffs, Newport

Alan Seeger

Tonight a shimmer of gold lies mantled o’er

Smooth lovely Ocean. Through the lustrous gloom

A savor steals from linden trees in bloom

And gardens ranged at many a palace door.

Proud walls rise here, and, where the moonbeams pour

Their pale enchantment down the dim coast-line,

Terrace and lawn, trim hedge and flowering vine,

Crown with fair culture all the sounding shore.

How sweet, to such a place, on such a night,

From halls with beauty and festival a-glare,

To come distract and, stretched on the cool turf,

Yield to some fond, improbable delight,

While the moon, reddening, sinks, and all the air

Sighs with the muffled tumult of the surf!