Up the sky in silence holy
Comes the young moon slowly, slowly,
Softly with her light divine,
Filling, like a cup with wine.

The moon like a flower
In heaven's high bower,
With silent delight,
Sits and smiles on the night.

The moon, full orbed, forsakes her watery cave,
And lifts her lovely head above the wave...

The moon, like a flower in heaven's high bower, with silent delight sits and smiles on the night.

The moon, full-orbed, forsakes her watery cave,
And lifts her lovely head above the wave;
The snowy splendours of her modest ray
Stream o'er the glistening waves, and quivering play;
Around her, glittering on the heaven's arched brow,
Unnumbered stars, enclosed in azure, glow,
Thick as the dew-drops of the April dawn,
Or May-flowers crowding o'er the daisy lawn;
The canvas whitens in the silvery beam,
And with a mild pale-red the pendants gleam;
The masts' tall shadows tremble o'er the deep;
The peaceful winds a holy silence keep;
The watchman's carol, echoed from the prows,
Alone, at times, awakes the still repose.

Slowly, silently, now the moon
Walks the night in her silver shoon.

Full-blossoming moon! In thy fair light
Like liquid gold, the ocean gleams:
Like daylight’s clearness, yet charm’d into twilight,
Over the strand’s wide plain all is lying;
In the starless clear azure heavens
Hover the snowy clouds,
Like colossal figures of deities
Of glittering marble.
No, ’tis not so, no clouds can they be!
’Tis They themselves, the Gods...

That moon which the sky never saw
even in dreams
has risen again

sleepily through the olive groves, silvered by a moon as large and as white as a magnolia blossom.

Going up to them,
Not a pine-tree But has its bright moon.

outside
It's another world
When the moon is high

The innocent moon, that nothing does but shine,
Moves all the labouring surges of the world.

THE Moon is sailing o'er the sky,
But lonely all, as if she pined
For somewhat of companionship,
And felt it was in vain she shined:
Earth is her mirror, and the stars
Are as the court around her throne;
She is a beauty and a queen;
But what is this? she is alone.

How beautiful is night!
A dewy freshness fills the silent air;
No mist obscures; nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain,
Breaks the serene of heaven:
In full-orbed glory, yonder moon divine
Rolls through the dark blue depths;
Beneath her steady ray
The desert circle spreads
Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky.
How beautiful is night!