The night has come tiptoeing again;
From the end of sea, where meets the sky.
Bathed in the grace of tall statured waves!
It comes to meet, the city of life.
And yet it hides far away from touch;
In that peace-
Where the patient moonlight gladly stares;
Where the forlorn winds listen to -
The waves and shore talk, in cleanest hush.
It shreds its shame into small shadows and take slow steps,
And embrace the world in its bold silhoutted dress.
Lovers borrow cloaks of disguise from the night;
And step out to meet, hiding from the moon,
That keep a watch at every street.
They meet by stealth at some virgin spot.
To talk of heretical love and prove its worth to none.
To play in the silly warmth of their cloaks-
And play all over again-a game of no win and loss;
And when the moon has found their innocent theft,
It would shyly pour its silver smile,
And send the tuft of fleeting winds To tease, them about their lustful antics.
And let them steal the night, away from it.
