Чарльз Маккей (Charles Mackay)

Song to the Harvest Moon

In the deep silence of the night,
We come, O harvest moon,
To dance beneath thy gentle light,
To many a merry tune;
We come, whilst thou in thoughtful sheen
Art beaming from the blue,
In wild wood lone, and meadow green,
To tread the mellow dew!
And pledge at midnight's solemn noon
A health to thee, O harvest moon!

Whilst thou alone dost beam on high,
In jolly groups we pass,
Among the sheaves of corn and rye,
To drain the brimming glass;
Or go, when song and dance are o'er,
A-roaming 'mong the wheat,
To plight our troth, in thickets hoar,
To many a maiden sweet,
And call on thee, at midnight's noon,
To hear our vows, O harvest moon! 

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