English poem
Under the April Moon
by Bliss Carman
Oh, well the world is dreaming Under the April moon, Her soul in love with beauty, Her senses all a-swoon!
Pure hangs the silver crescent Above the twilight wood, And pure the silver music Wakes from the marshy flood.
O Earth, with all thy transport, How comes it life should seem A shadow in the moonlight, A murmur in a dream?