The keen stars were twinkling br And the fair moon was rising among them, br Dear Jane: br The guitar was tinkling, br But the notes were not sweet till you sung them br Again. br As the moon's soft splendor br O'er the faint cold starlight of heaven br Is thrown, br So your voice most tender br To the strings without soul had then given br Its own. br br The stars will awaken, br Though the moon sleep a full hour later, br Tonight; br No leaf will be shaken br Whilst the dews of your melody scatter br Delight. br Though the sound overpowers, br Sing again, with your dear voice revealing br A tone br Of some world far from ours br Where music and moonlight and feeling br Are one.