The silver moon

Léo Sachs

The silver moonlight

gleams thro' the trees,

And voices sweet

are borne on the breeze,

Voices of love.

O Dearest One,

The pool's deep waters

mirror the sky,

And mournful willow

bending nigh,

The tree of sorrow,

O blessed hour.

A sweet and

holy peace

from above

Comes down upon this

blest hour of love,

this hour of love.