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.