‘Tis moonlight, summer moonlight, 
All soft and still and fair; 
The solemn hour of midnight 
Breathes sweet thoughts everywhere,

But most where trees are sending 
Their breezy boughs on high, 
Or stooping low are lending 
A shelter from the sky.

And there in those wild bowers 
A lovely form is laid; 
Green grass and dew-steeped flowers 
Wave gently round her head.

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