I care not for all in the air,
If I want the sweet light of thine eyes.
Then meet me by moonlight alone.
Daylight was made for the gay,
For the thoughtless, the heartless, the free!
But there’s something about the moon’s ray
That is dearer to you, love, and me.
Oh! be sure to be there, for I said
I would show to the night-flowers their queen.
Nay, turn not aside that sweet head—