THE RISING moon has hid the stars;

　　Her level rays like golden bars

　　Lie on the landscape green

　　With shadows brown between.

　　And silver the river gleams

　　As if Diana in her dreams

　　Had dropt her silver bow

　　Upon the meadows low.

　　On such a tranquil night as this

　　She woke Endymion with a kiss

　　When sleeping in the grove

　　He dreamed not of her love.

　　Like Dian's kiss unasked unsought

　　Love gives itself but is not bought;

　　Nor voice nor sound betrays

　　Its deep impassioned gaze.

　　It comes —the beautiful the free

　　The crown of all humanity —

　　In silence and alone

　　To seek the elected one.

　　It lifts the boughs whose shadows deep

　　Are Life's oblivion the soul's sleep

　　And kisses the closed eyes

　　Of him who slumbering lies.

　　O weary hearts! O slumbering eyes!

　　O drooping souls whose destinies

　　Are fraught with fear and pain

　　Ye shall be loved again!

　　No one is so accursed by fate

　　No one so utterly desolate

　　But some heart though unknown

　　Responds unto his own.

　　Responds —as if with unseen wings

　　An angel touched its quivering strings;

　　And whispers in its song

　　Where hast thou stayed so long?

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（编辑：王美娇）