Blurred is the moon in a yellow stain, And the clouds are flying before the wind, The leaves fall fast in a ghostly rain,— Summer is left behind. And left behind the long nights of June, When the lights were soft in the waters’ shine— Softer your lips when they first met mine— Blurred is the Autumn moon. Blurred is the moon in a yellow stain, And oh, for the warmth of your arms again! |