As down Mount Emerald at eve I came，

　　The mountain moon went all the way with me.

　　Backward I looked， to see the heights aflame

　　With a pale light that glimmered eerily.

　　A little lad undid the rustic latch

　　As hand in hand your cottage we did gain，

　　Where green limp tendrils at our cloaks did catch，

　　And dim bamboos o'erhung a shadowy lane.

　　Gaily I cried， "Here may we rest our fill！"

　　Then choicest wines we quaffed； and cheerily

　　"The Wind among the Pines" we sang， until

　　A few faint stars hung in the Galaxy.

　　Merry were you， my friend： and drunk was I，

　　Blissfully letting all the world go by.