When the moon is on the wall And her shadow on the door, When darkness on the orchard lies like sea upon the shore, The apple-boughs are silver with the silence swimming through, With the halo of the dew; Hark! what little shrieking nightjar ever gave so soft a call When the moon is on the wall?
When the moon is on the wall There’s a sound among the trees; O master on the settle, with the sheep dog at your knees, At the little nightjar’s voice does he stir to wake and growl? Does the hooting of the owl Make him prick his ears and quiver, make his hackles rise and fall When the moon is on the wall?
When the moon is on the wall And the fire has sunk and died, The maid sits still to listen for the lad that lurks outside-- Good master, dozing o’er your pipe, how fast is slumber’s thrall When the moon is on the wall!
O! but ’tis strange how shadows move that lay so still, so still, And stranger yet how close they draw before the night grows chill, And the little nightjar shrieks no more from out the elm-tree tall, And the moon has left the wall.
❦