The little white moon goes climbing
Over the dusky cloud,
Kissing its fringes softly,
With a love-light, pale as shroud—
Where walks this moon to-night, Annie?
Over the waters bright, Annie?
Does she smile on your face as you lift it, proud?
God look on thee—look on thee, Annie!
For I shall look never more!

The little white star stands watching
Ever beside the moon;
Hid in the mists that shroud her,
And hid in her light's mid-noon:
Yet the star follows all heaven through, Annie,
As my soul follows after you, Annie,
At moon-rise and moon-set, late and soon:
Oh, God watch thee, God watch thee, Annie,
For I can watch never more!

The purple-black sky folds loving,
Over far sea, far land;
The thunder-clouds, looming eastward,
Like a chain of mountains stand.
Under this July sky, Annie,
Do you hear waves lapping by, Annie?
Do you walk, with the hills on either hand?
Oh, God love thee, God love thee, Annie,
For I love thee evermore!