The moon, a young gentle birde,jest a little smile on her face..
A cloud as the veil from which she hides,
her silvery bridal gown of face....
From her glim, she chased the gloom,
dreaful, dark and dreary..
To the dreams of young, sleeping in the room..
stars poured a hope dearly...
The sun's glow peeped to the meadow
and soon it was the dawn..
Upon the glade, I watched from the window,
but dreamy night was gone....
