“On a midsummer night, on a night that was eerie with stars, In a wood too deep for a single star to look through, You led down a path whose turnings you knew in the darkness, But the scent of the dew-dripping cedars was all that I knew. I drank of the darkness, I was fed with the honey of fragrance, I was glad of my life, the drawing of breath was sweet; I heard your voice, you said, ‘Look down, see the glow-worm!’It was there before me, a small star white at my feet.” Sara Teasdale – The Collected Poems.

Edward Robert Hughes – Midsummer Eve, 1908.