Canoeing on the Charles

So quiet and warm the night,
Dame Nature seemed a-dreaming;
Twinkling shone the little stars,
O’er the water gleaming.

Behind the shadowing trees
The kind moon tried to hide,
But the saucy, waving leaves
On purpose blew aside.

Our canoe was anchored near
A stone bridge old and grey
Sweet Songs we could sometimes hear,
Now near—now far away.

June bugs glimmered here and there,
The frogs a-wooing went;
Chinese joss sticks through the air
Their fragrant incense sent.

I’ll ne’er forget the River Charles
Where Tom took me canoeing
I learned it isn’t only FROGS
On summers’ nights go wooing.

--Eliza Creelman Vidler, "Candle Flickers", c. 1898