James Whitcomb Riley

Home at Night

When chirping crickets fainter cry,
And pale stars blossom in the sky,
And twilight’s gloom has dimmed the bloom
And blurred the butterfly:
 
When locust-blossoms fleck the walk,
And up the tiger-lily stalk
The glow-worm crawls and clings and falls
And glimmers down the garden-walls:
 
When buzzing things, with double wings
Of crisp and raspish flutterings,
Go whizzing by so very nigh
One thinks of fangs and stings:—
 
O then, within, is stilled the din
Of crib she rocks the baby in,
And heart and gate and latch’s weight
Are lifted—and the lips of Kate.
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