Note 8 — GUY DE MAUPASSANT

Night fell, all was hushed; the torches died out Under the darkening woods, the springs lament. The nightingale, hidden in its shady nest, Sang like a poet and like a lover. In the depths of the dark foliage all dispersed, The madcaps laughing carried off the wise, The fair one disappeared in the gloom with her lover And with the vague trouble of some dream They felt by degrees intermingled with their souls, With their secret thoughts, with their glances of flame, With their hearts, their senses, with their yielding reason The blue moonlight that bathed the vast horizon.