Ay! The pink moon shines too bright,
The yon skies glitter in all delight.
The fireflies waft in search of joy,
And I am hither but a coltish boy.

At my window; gaze I far,
And gaze I deeper at each star.
The garden droops with e'ery hour,
With wizened trees and slumberous flowers.

Thither I saw in frail moonlight,
A boy and a girl had a vigorous fight.
The thickets danced as well they fought,
And broke perhaps few earthen pots.

I wondered why this boy and girl,
Fought so wild as a windy swirl.
And I...