All From The Light Of The Sweet Moon Tired Men Lie Now Abed; Actionless, Full Of Visions, Soon Vanishing, Soon Sped. The Starry Night Aflock With Beams Of Crystal Light Scarce Stirs: Only Its Birds - The Cocks, The Streams, Call 'Neath Heaven'S Wanderers. All Silent; All Hearts Still; Love, Cunning, Fire Fallen Low: When Faint Morn Straying On The Hill Sighs, And His Soft Airs Flow.