(A.H. Eastman / Fred Heltman, 1916)
The moon is beaming with a mystic glow,
The lights are gleaming where the ripples flow,
All nature's dreaming in the vale below;
The night is come and we must part.
Oh let there be once more a fond embrace;
My heart with thee has found a resting place
And now I see the love light in your face,
The mirror of your heart.
The stars are shining in the heav'ns above,
My heart is pining for the one I love.
The leaves entwining call the gentle dove
To find her nest in shadows deep.
A stillness hovers o'er the garden fair,
And darkness covers every blossom there.
Oh, why should lovers leave a spot so rare?
But 'tis the hour of sleep.
Good night, my love, the shadows gently fall;
The stars above are watching over all.
The dying embers glow;
The winds are whisp'ring soft and low,
Goodnight, my love, goodnight,
Goodnight, my love, goodnight.