The Moon

So late the hour, so sweet the tune
I find my solace neath the moon.
While the village sleeps, and all is sound 
Such a place where love is found. 

Our talks were civil
And our feelings glad.
Tho the white dwarf stars
Had left us sad.

At rest upon 
The crescent brim 
I lie and sing 
My somber hymn.

And the moon
Who has heard my somber tune
Would permit my soul
All too soon.

Tho the moon's own light
Begins to fade, 
I must depart and return 
On another day.