Angel Of The Night |
| by Wolfgang |
Perched high upon a mountain top
She sits and plays her mandolin,
She's serenading stars and moon,
And bid them welcome once again.
Her tunes are gentle, if not chanting,
She is the angel of the night,
Greets coming darkness as a friend
And puts to sleep the day of light.
The stars applaud her nightly concert,
The moon enjoys her melodies,
And all is good, and all is well,
And all is as it ought to be.
Until the moon begins to yawn,
Until the star-glow fades away,
All is at peace another night,
Another dawn, another day.
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