The bright stars are beaming with silvery light;
And the pale crescent moon, sailing calmly on high,
Looks down on the earth from her home in the sky;
Oh the sunniest day has no lovelier sight,
Than the tranquil repose of the beautiful night.
Night in the valley—the tall forest trees
In whispers reply to the voice of the breeze;
The streamlet glides softly amidst its green bowers;
The air is perfumed by the night-blooming flowers;
And the song of the bulbul, the fire-fly’s light,