Down from the Mountain

 As down Mount Emerald at eve I came,
The mountain moon went all the way with me.

Backward I looked, to see the heights aflame
With a pale light that glimmered eerily.


A little lad undid the rustic latch
As hand in hand your cottage we did gain,
Where green limp tendrils at our cloaks did catch,
And dim bamboos o'erhung a shadowy lane.


Gaily I cried, "Here may we rest our fill!"
Then choicest wines we quaffed; and cheerily
"The Wind among the Pines" we sang, until
A few faint stars hung in the Galaxy.


Merry were you, my friend: and drunk was I,
Blissfully letting all the world go by.

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