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| UNDER the harvest moon, | |
| When the soft silver | |
| Drips shimmering | |
| Over the garden nights, | |
| Death, the gray mocker, |
|
| Comes and whispers to you | |
| As a beautiful friend | |
| Who remembers. | |
|
| Under the summer roses | |
| When the flagrant crimson |
|
| Lurks in the dusk | |
| Of the wild red leaves, | |
| Love, with little hands, | |
| Comes and touches you | |
| With a thousand memories, |
|
| And asks you | |
| Beautiful, unanswerable question |
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