The young May moon is beaming; love,
The glow-worm's lamp is gleaming, love,
How sweet to rove
Through Morna's grove,
When the drowsy world is dreaming, love!
Then awake! The heavens look bright, my dear,
'Tis never too late for delight, my dear,
And best of all ways
To lengthen our days
Is to steal a few hours from the night, my dear!
Now all the world is sleeping, love.
But the Sage, his star-watch keeping, love,
And I, whose star,
More glorious far,
Is the eye from that casement peeping, love.
Then awake ! — till rise of sun, my dear,
The Sage's glass we'll shun, my dear.
Or, in watching the flight
Of bodies of light,
He might happen to take thee for one, my dear.
Available sung texts: (what is this?)
• C. Ives C. Ives sets stanza 1
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Confirmed with Thomas Moore, A New Edition from the last London Edition, Boston: Lee and Shepard; New York: Lee, Shepard, & Dillingham, 1876.
Text Authorship:
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Researcher for this page: Pierre Mathé
[Guest Editor] This text was added to the website between May 1995 and September 2003.
Line count: 20
Word count: 130
La jeune lune de mai rayonne ; amour,
La lampe du ver luisant brille,
Comme il est doux d'errer
Dans le bosquet de Morna
Quand le monde endormi rêve,amour !
Veille donc ! Le ciel semble clair, ma chère,
Il n'est jamais trop tard pour le plaisir, ma chère,
Et le meilleur moyen
De prolonger nos jours
Est de voler quelques heures à la nuit, ma chère !
Maintenant le monde entier dort, amour.
Sauf le Sage observant les étoiles, amour,
Et moi, dont l'étoile,
Bien plus splendide.
Est l'œil qui observe depuis cette fenêtre, amour.
Veille donc ! Jusqu'au lever du soleil, ma chère,
Fuyons la lunette du Sage, ma chère.
Ou, observant le vol
Des corps lumineux,
Il pourrait te prendre pour l'un d'eux, ma chère.
