O never ye sleep in the moonlight,
My pious old Granny would say,
For sleepers, bewitched by the moonlight,
With madness thereafter are fay.
But why should I sleep when the moon shines,
And waste all her beauty away?
There´s more to be done when the moon shines
Than slumber in houses and pray.
My body I´ll bathe in the moon-rays,
My mantle of dew shall be spun.
Encrowned in a nimbus of moon-rays,
I´ll dance till the night flee the sun.
And if I should yield to the moonbeams,
Laid low by weird malison´s harm,
Let me sleep ´neath the turf in the moonbeams,
Enthralled by the night´s silver charm.