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Text
Night
English source:
W. H. Shewring
The elm-tree at the garden edge
It's palmy bows in shadows wreathes
As gently like a silver thought
The moon her secret face unsheathes
And stirring faintly in it's sleep
The brook feels the cold winds pass by
And earth is pale with loneliness
And full of crystal stars the sky.
It's palmy bows in shadows wreathes
As gently like a silver thought
The moon her secret face unsheathes
And stirring faintly in it's sleep
The brook feels the cold winds pass by
And earth is pale with loneliness
And full of crystal stars the sky.
