Explore "The Herons of Elmwood" by Henry Wadsworth Longfellow on Textopian. Read with annotations and highlights.
Warm and still is the summer night, / As here by the river's brink I wander; / White overhead are the stars, and white / The glimmering lamps on the hillside yonder.
Silent are all the sounds of day; / Nothing I hear but the chirp of crickets, / And the cry of the herons winging their way / O'er the poet's house in the Elmwood thickets.