By Moonlight
By Moonlight
I love this quiet moon-lit winter night
When all the prairie round so wide and far
Is snowy-mantled, and each twinkling star
Burns like a rajah’s jewel, large and bright;
The clear cold moon floods down its silver light,
And from each post or tree a blue-black bar
Of shadow falls athwart the earth, to mar
The far-spread ermine robe of virgin white
That covers all. Here by the sod-house door
I stand and listen; mystic, strange, but clear
There comes sweet music, all the breathless air
Vibrates ecstatic, and my heart feels more
Celestial joy, though sordid my lot here,
Than earth-born mortals have the right to share.
Schuyler W. Miller
The Kiote, February 1900