CONCEIVED AND COMMENCED WHEN PASSING OVER PUTNEY BRIDGE ON A FINE MOONLIGHT NIGHT IN SUMMER.
Project Gutenberg EPUB3 edition
Keightley, Thomas
The moonbeams on the lake are glancing, The nimble bark is now advancing, That for this grove is bound. Ye gentle clouds, ah! hear a lover, And hasten not the moon to cover And darkness pour around.
Doth fancy sport, or do I hear her, As nearer still she comes and nearer, Cutting the billows bright?— How still! scarce even a light breeze flying! Earth, water, air, at peace are lying Beneath the calm moonlight.
My heart beats high, my soul rejoices, Methinks I hear their merry voices— She soon will reach the shore.— Ah me! my hopes, my hopes are failing, Yon sable cloud is onwards sailing— The moon it covers o'er.
Now o'er the lake they dubious wander, And on some part remote may strand her, Unless they aid obtain,— I'll wave a signal from the summit Of yon high bank, and haply from it Some guidance they may gain.
The cloud moves on, the moonlight beameth, And o'er the lovely lady streameth, Upon her lofty stand. With joyful shout the boatmen greet her, Her anxious lover hastes to meet her, And eager springs to land.