Moon, O Moon in the empty sky,
Why do you swing so low?
Pretty moon with the silver ring
And the long bright beams where the fairies cling,
Where do you always go?
I go to the land of the Siamese,
Ceylon and the Great Plateau,
Over the seas where Sinbad sailed,
Where Moses crossed and Pharaoh failed,—
There’s where I always go.
Leroy F. Jackson
