The Young May Moon
The young May moon is beaming, love.The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love.How sweet to rove,Through Morna's grove,When the drowsy world is dreaming, love!Then awake! -- the heavens look bright, my dear,'Tis never too late for delight, my dear,And the best of all waysTo lengthen our daysIs to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!
Now all the world is sleeping, love,But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love,And I, whose star,More glorious far,Is the eye from that casement peeping, love.Then awake! -- till rise of sun, my dear,The Sage's glass we'll shun, my dear,Or, in watching the flightOf bodies of light,He might happen to take thee for one, my dear.
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