White in the moon the long road lies, 
The moon stands blank above; 
White in the moon the long road lies 
That leads me from my love. 

Still hangs the hedge without a gust, 
Still, still the shadows stay: 
My feet upon the moonlit dust 
Pursue the ceaseless way. 

The world is round, so travellers tell, 
And straight though reach the track, 
Trudge on, trudge on, 'twill all be well, 
The way will guide one back. 

But ere the circle homeward hies 
Far, far must it remove: 
White in the moon the long road lies 
That leads me from my love.