An August Midnight

 I 

A shaded lamp and a waving blind, 
And the beat of a clock from a distant floor: 
On this scene enter--winged, horned, and spined - 
A longlegs, a moth, and a dumbledore; 
While 'mid my page there idly stands 
A sleepy fly, that rubs its hands .
 .
 .
 

II 

Thus meet we five, in this still place, 
At this point of time, at this point in space.
 
- My guests parade my new-penned ink, 
Or bang at the lamp-glass, whirl, and sink.
 
"God's humblest, they!" I muse.
 Yet why? 
They know Earth-secrets that know not I.

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