O! softly falls the moonlight
On stream, and field, and tree,
But I heed not its beams that around me
Fall as soft as soft can be:

For I know that a maiden awaits me,
With a presence fair and bright,
And the smiles that will greet me are sweeter
Than those of the moon to-night.

What joy will be hers when she hears me,
What thoughts in her dark sweet eyes!
That will peep from their own sweet dwelling,
As the stars peep down from the skies.

What idylls of happiest promise
In their lustrous depths will gleam,
As the shadows of stars lie trembling
In the bosom of some still stream.

O, I weary to hear the music
Of her voice's gentle tone,
That will soften to gentle whispers
All the roughness of my own—

That will still in my heart the yearning
That runs through the restless day,
Till a new life starts within me,
In place of the old away.

Then slip, O moon, from the heaven,
Leave thy space to the stars above;
I heed not your beams that are round me,
I heed but my human love.