 | English melodies |  |
186
THE MOON HATH FILLED HER HORN.
The Moon hath filled her horn to-night,
And, by her beauty, so will we;
And, if we fill not ours so bright,
We'll empty it as fast, you'll see.
They say she looks but pale aloft,
That clouds around her reel and swim:
Perchance she's filled her horn too oft,
And that makes Man—and Moon—look dim.
And, by her beauty, so will we;
And, if we fill not ours so bright,
We'll empty it as fast, you'll see.
They say she looks but pale aloft,
That clouds around her reel and swim:
Perchance she's filled her horn too oft,
And that makes Man—and Moon—look dim.
What though she charm a noble throng
Of clouds and stars around her throne;
Have we not, in our sons of song,
Bright stars, immortal as her own?
Then fill the horn, the cup, the glass,
Whate'er may now before us shine:
Here's “Life,”—and may its moments pass
In mirth and moonlight—friends and wine!
Of clouds and stars around her throne;
Have we not, in our sons of song,
Bright stars, immortal as her own?
Then fill the horn, the cup, the glass,
Whate'er may now before us shine:
Here's “Life,”—and may its moments pass
In mirth and moonlight—friends and wine!
| English melodies | |