C1415 1415
The moon rises bright and clear, How fair her form appears! Soft and slender is her grace, My restless heart can find no peace.
The moon shines pure and high, How lovely meets my eye! Gentle and graceful she appears— My troubled heart is filled with tears.
The moon casts down its light, How radiant is her sight! Sweet and charming is her air— My aching heart knows only care
