SERENADE

by: William Griffith (1876-1936)

HE Moon puts on her silver veil

And shawl of lace: and with far lutes

And violins in many a dale

The thrushes blow their woodland flutes.

 

Oh, and with many a ghostly cheer,

Under the moon the forest heaves

And sways with ecstasy to hear

The eery laughter of the leaves.

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