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The sun had sunk and the summer skies
Were dotted with specks of light
That melted soon read more
The sun had sunk and the summer skies
Were dotted with specks of light
That melted soon in the deep moon-rise
That flowed over Groton Height.
Don't tell me the sky's the limit when there are foosteps on the moon.
Don't tell me the sky's the limit when there are foosteps on the moon.
'Tis midnight now. The bend and broken moon, batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles, hangs silent on the read more
'Tis midnight now. The bend and broken moon, batter'd and black, as from a thousand battles, hangs silent on the purple walls of Heaven.
Reach for the moon, because if you don't make it you'll land among the stars.
Reach for the moon, because if you don't make it you'll land among the stars.
The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now read more
The moon, the moon, so silver and cold,
Her fickle temper has oft been told,
Now shade--now bright and sunny--
But of all the lunar things that change,
The one that shows most fickle and strange,
And takes the most eccentric range,
Is the moon--so called--of honey!
When the hollow drum has beat to bed
And the little fifer hangs his head,
When all read more
When the hollow drum has beat to bed
And the little fifer hangs his head,
When all is mute the Moorish flute,
And nodding guards watch wearily,
On, then let me,
From prison free,
March out by moonlight cheerily.
The moon is at her full, and riding high,
Floods the calm fields with light.
The airs read more
The moon is at her full, and riding high,
Floods the calm fields with light.
The airs that hover in the summer sky
Are all asleep to-night.
The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
read more
The stars were glittering in the heaven's dusk meadows,
Far west, among those flowers of the shadows,
The thin, clear crescent lustrous over her,
Made Ruth raise question, looking through the bars
Of heaven, with eyes half-oped, what God, what comer
Unto the harvest of the eternal summer,
Had flung his golden hook down on the field of stars.
He who would see old Hoghton right
Must view it by the pale moonlight.
He who would see old Hoghton right
Must view it by the pale moonlight.