Let’s say in August or June,
Though it hardly matters just now.
The man in the moon peered down
With a jealous eye on the pair,
And his face was dark with a frown,
For the girl was bewitchingly fair.
“Just one,” begged the lover. “Please, dear,
Don’t you see I love only you?
And nobody’s looking, don’t fear;
And you know that I’ll ever be true.”