In The Moonlight
I met her in the moonlight beside the willow tree,
by Dennis Lambert
‘Twas there she loosed her hair and set it gently free,
Flowing soft with a scented breeze, drifting in the night,
She was a dream whose beauty paled the lunar light.
A vision in the moonlight, enchanting as the stream.
A maiden in the moonlight, more lovely than a dream.
I kissed her in the moonlight, and held her close to me.
We rose and fell in the moonlight, beneath the willow tree.
And if tomorrow, war’s trumpet calls aloud for me,
And if I must take to steen to keep my country free.
‘Tis “Only Death, ” I said, “can keep my away from thee
But if Death, bury me here beneath this willow tree.