Moonlight

Oh, what so subtle as the spell
  The silvery moonlight weaves?
Oh, what so sad and what so glad,
  And what so soon deceives.
A vision of the long ago—
  Long years of pain between;
A mocking dream of happier days—
  A veil of silver sheen.
A passing gleam of falling stars—
  An idle summer's dream;
The sudden waking of a heart—
  Things are not as they seem.
Oh, silver moon, indeed you hold
  The secrets of the heart;
And none can know and none can guess
  The mystery of thy art.
A silver length of rippling waves,
  A glance from happy eyes;
A strain of music low and sweet—
  The heart in rapture lies.
Yet, ah, how faithless are the vows
  Made 'neath the summer moon;
As changing as the falling rays
  That fade away as soon.
For love is like the subtle spell
  The sliver moonlight weaves;
And what so sad and what so glad
And what so soon deceives?

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