The Moon.MUSIC COMPOSED FOR MERRY’S MUSEUM, BY GEORGE J. WEBB.musicWho am I that shine so bright,With my pretty yellow light,Peeping through your curtains grey?Tell me, little child, I pray.When the sun is gone I riseIn the very silent skies;And a cloud or two doth skimRound about my silver rim.All the little stars do seemHidden by my brighter beam,And among them I do ride,Like a queen in all her pride.Little child, consider wellWho this simple tale doth tell;And I think you’ll guess it soon,For I only am the Moon.
MUSIC COMPOSED FOR MERRY’S MUSEUM, BY GEORGE J. WEBB.
music
Who am I that shine so bright,With my pretty yellow light,Peeping through your curtains grey?Tell me, little child, I pray.When the sun is gone I riseIn the very silent skies;And a cloud or two doth skimRound about my silver rim.All the little stars do seemHidden by my brighter beam,And among them I do ride,Like a queen in all her pride.Little child, consider wellWho this simple tale doth tell;And I think you’ll guess it soon,For I only am the Moon.
Who am I that shine so bright,With my pretty yellow light,Peeping through your curtains grey?Tell me, little child, I pray.When the sun is gone I riseIn the very silent skies;And a cloud or two doth skimRound about my silver rim.All the little stars do seemHidden by my brighter beam,And among them I do ride,Like a queen in all her pride.Little child, consider wellWho this simple tale doth tell;And I think you’ll guess it soon,For I only am the Moon.
Who am I that shine so bright,With my pretty yellow light,Peeping through your curtains grey?Tell me, little child, I pray.
Who am I that shine so bright,
With my pretty yellow light,
Peeping through your curtains grey?
Tell me, little child, I pray.
When the sun is gone I riseIn the very silent skies;And a cloud or two doth skimRound about my silver rim.
When the sun is gone I rise
In the very silent skies;
And a cloud or two doth skim
Round about my silver rim.
All the little stars do seemHidden by my brighter beam,And among them I do ride,Like a queen in all her pride.
All the little stars do seem
Hidden by my brighter beam,
And among them I do ride,
Like a queen in all her pride.
Little child, consider wellWho this simple tale doth tell;And I think you’ll guess it soon,For I only am the Moon.
Little child, consider well
Who this simple tale doth tell;
And I think you’ll guess it soon,
For I only am the Moon.