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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.
Such a slender moon, going up and up,
Waxing so fast from night to night,
And swelling read more
Such a slender moon, going up and up,
Waxing so fast from night to night,
And swelling like an orange flower-bud, bright,
Fated, methought, to round as to a golden cup,
And hold to my two lips life's best of wine.
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.
He made an instrument to know
If the moon shine at full or no;
That would, as read more
He made an instrument to know
If the moon shine at full or no;
That would, as soon as e'er she shone straight,
Whether 'twere day or night demonstrate;
Tell what her d'ameter to an inch is,
And prove that she's not made of green cheese.
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the read more
Soon as the evening shades prevail,
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth.
The devil's in the moon for mischief; they
Who call'd her chaste, methinks, began too soon
Their read more
The devil's in the moon for mischief; they
Who call'd her chaste, methinks, began too soon
Their nomenclature; there is not a day,
The longest, not the twenty-first of June,
Sees half the business in a wicked way,
On which three single hours of moonshine smile--
And then she looks so modest all the while!
Jove, thou regent of the skies.
Jove, thou regent of the skies.
Lend me thy pen
To write a word
In the moonlight.
Pierrot, my friend!
read more
Lend me thy pen
To write a word
In the moonlight.
Pierrot, my friend!
My candle's out,
I've no more fire;--
For love of God
Open thy door!
[Fr., Au clair de la lune
Mon ami Pierrot,
Prete moi ta plume
Pour ecrire un mot;
Ma chandelle est morte,
Je n'ai plus de feu,
Ouvre moi ta porte,
Pour l'amour de Dieu.]
