The moon is like a boat, my love,
of lemon peel afloat, my love,
and with a sail of gauze, my love,
she seems to slightly pause,
upon her silent way all on her starry way.
I see her pearly decks, my love,
set in with diamond specks, my love,
I see her pearly mast, my love,
far from her sea-shell past
and softly does she sway all on her starry way.
Of silk they have been spun, my love,
her ropes that limply run, my love,
down to her carved prow, my love,
down to her mermaid prow,
and gently does she sway all on her starry way.
The men be bathed in light, my love,
the women clothed in white, my love,
all in that wonderous fleet, my love,
as each the other meets,
will smile and soflty sing, will smile and softly sing.
And on some distant sand, my love,
the ships will gently land, my love,
their folk will meet them there, my love,
with flowing golden hair,
and great will be their joy and great will be their joy.
