So, on the moment she went. It was the night of the full moon, the harvest moon, and all earth and ocean lay glowing and quivering in a bath of golden splendor. From the woods and fields mine rich autumnal odors, and from over the sea, sighing breaths of a dying tropic breeze,—night-birds and insects on the one hand, the long waste of dreaming waves sliding up the sands, and breaking in music, upon the other.
Putnam's Magazine, Volume 2