As down Mount Emerald at eve I came,
 The mountain moon went all the way with me.
Backward I looked, to see the heights aflame
 With a pale light that glimmered eerily.

A little lad undid the rustic latch
 As hand in hand your cottage we did gain,
Where green limp tendrils at our cloaks did catch,
 And dim bamboos o'erhung a shadowy lane.

Gaily I cried, "Here may we rest our fill!"
 Then choicest wines we quaffed; and cheerily
"The Wind among the Pines" we sang, until
 A few faint stars hung in the Galaxy.

 Merry were you, my friend: and drunk was I,
 Blissfully letting all the world go by.