名人诗歌|To Jane

And the fair moon was rising among them，

Dear Jane：

The guitar was tinkling^1，

But the notes were not sweet till you sung them

Again.

As the moon's soft splendor²

O'er the faint cold starlight of heaven

Is thrown，

So your voice most tender

To the strings^{3 without soul had then given}

Its own.

The stars will awaken^4，

Though the moon sleep a full hour later，

Tonight；

No leaf will be shaken

Whilst the dews of your melody scatter⁵

Delight.

Though the sound overpowers，

Sing again， with your dear voice revealing

A tone

Of some world far from ours

Where music and moonlight and feeling

Are one.