I paused to read a letter of hers
  By the moon’s cold shine,
Eyeing it in the tenderest way,
And edging it up to catch each ray
  Upon her light-penned line.
I did not know what years would flow
  Of her life’s span and mine
Ere I read another letter of hers
  By the moon’s cold shine!
I chance now on the last of hers,
  By the moon’s cold shine;
It is the one remaining page
Out of the many shallow and sage
  Whereto she set her sign.
Who could foresee there were to be
  Such letters of pain and pine
Ere I should read this last of hers
  By the moon’s cold shine!
  By the moon’s cold shine,
Eyeing it in the tenderest way,
And edging it up to catch each ray
  Upon her light-penned line.
I did not know what years would flow
  Of her life’s span and mine
Ere I read another letter of hers
  By the moon’s cold shine!
I chance now on the last of hers,
  By the moon’s cold shine;
It is the one remaining page
Out of the many shallow and sage
  Whereto she set her sign.
Who could foresee there were to be
  Such letters of pain and pine
Ere I should read this last of hers
  By the moon’s cold shine!
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