Impressions - La Fruite De La Lune - Chandeen

To outer senses there is peace

A dreamy peace on either hand

Deep silence in the shadowy land

Deep silence where the shadows cease

Save for a cry that echoes shrill

From some lone bird disconsolate

A corncrake calling to its mate

The answer from the misty hill

And suddenly the moon withdraws

Her cickle from the lightening skies

And to her sombre cavern flies

Wrapped in a veil of yellow gauze