Without Her

The moon comes forth in her brightness; Fair as the moon was she, That bright and beautiful lady Who lit the night for me. Would that I saw her now, With the stars around her brow. The moon comes forth in her splendour; Fair through the void she burns, That pale and beautiful lady, My moon, no more returns; But under the alien skies She shines in a stranger's eyes. The moon comes forth in her glory; Kind to the world is she. That kind and beautiful lady, Doth charm no night for me. Oh, when the dawn-star wanes For the sun to rend my chains!