O the long, long street and the sweet 
  Sense of the night, of the Spring ! 
  Lamps in a glittering string,
Pointing a path for our feet. 

Pointing and beckoning -- where? 
  Far out of thought, out of view, 
  Deep through the dusk and the dew : 
What but seems possible there ? 

O the dark Spring night and the bright 
  Glint of the lamps in the street ! 
  Strange is their summons, and sweet, 
O my beloved, to-night!