Her ebony tresses fell silvery in the moonlight,

She danced by the light of the moon.

The silver sphere shown down from heaven,

Its gaze fell softly upon the wood nymph,

Dancing, dancing,

Dancing in the moonlit night.

Her voice lifted its song silver-tuned in the moonlight.

She sang by the light of the moon.

The feathery mists smiled, framing the moon.

The forest nymph was Swayentlay – the moon’s daughter,

Singing, singing,

Singing in the moonlit night.

Her pale skin shown white in the moonlight,

Her beauty shown in the light of the moon.

And she prayed on in the moonlight,

Her voice whispered a tune to her King.

Praying, praying,

Praying in the moonlit night.

And she danced on in the moonlight,

She sang on by the light of the moon.

The darkening shadows crept through the night,

But Swayentlay danced on through the night.

Dancing, dancing,

Dancing in the moonlit night.

The veiling mists departed in the moonlight,

Silently by the light of the moon.

Her sweet song stopped on her lips,

Her dancing feet ceased in the night,

Swayentlay, Swayentlay,

Swayentlay in the moonlit night.

The silvery light broke the edge of the night.

A hush of wind blows the enchanting night.

Gone is she, the moon’s daughter,

Swayentlay, the moon’s silver-tuned daughter.

Not a trace, not a trace,

Not a trace is left in the sunlit morn.

The sun slowly breaks the moonlight,

Its golden shafts outline the morning light.

Not a trace is left to show where she –

The moon’s dancing dark haired daughter may be.

No more, no more,

No more is she in the sunlit morn.

But still when the moonlight is strongest,

When the darkness is longest,

Swayentlay dances on in the moonlight,

Her voice silvery-sweet in the moonlight.

Dancing, dancing,

Dancing on in the moonlit night.