(from The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock, by T.S. Eliot)

 

Let us go then, you and I

when the evening is spread out against the sky,

let us listen to the symphony of frogs

and the rustling song of leaves upon the trees.

Let us revel in the starry Milky Way,

and kneel in dewy grass upon our knees.

 

Let our glad hearts rejoice at this sweet world,

at fragrant flowers, trailing vines, and touch

with reverent fingers the crimson roses, but not too much.

 

And let us sit and swing a little while

under the moon’s glad glowing light.

And when the evening starts to chill,

we’ll go inside,

and keep in our hearts

the treasure of this night.