Full Solstice Moon rose on high
with the spheres of Mysteries and Truth
the light of Her face falls

haunting wreaths Earth

in wond’rous Lunacy

Seated on Elysian lawns hidden in the groves of a far Ancient lunar valley,
Bards and Nereids, Dryads and Nymphs speak melodious voices
Of Passion and of Mirth
Of Tales slumber’d
Of Histories golden
Of Sorrows
Of Delights
Of Glory

All lunatic parle

Tranced Mortals stand