The moon is like a boat, my love,
of lemon peel afloat, my love,
and with a sail of gauze, my love,
she seems to slightly pause,
upon her silent way all on her starry way.

I see her pearly decks, my love,
set in with diamond specks, my love,
I see her pearly mast, my love,
far from her sea-shell past
and softly does she sway all on her starry way.

Silk they have been spun, my love,
her ropes that limply run, my love,
down to her carved prow, my love,
down to her mermaid prow,
and gently does she sway all on her starry way.

She seems to linger long, my love,
as if spelled by a song, my love,
but no she tarry not, my love,
her journey unforgot
she makes her starry way,
she makes her starry way.

All in the sea of sky, my love,
the moonships sail and fly, my love,
tho’ many are their kind, my love,
tho’ all need but one wind,
to make their starry ways,
to make their starry ways.

And there will come a time, my love,
O may it be in mine, my love,
when men will proudly rise, my love,
and board to sail the skies,
moonships from all the spheres,
moonships from all the spheres.

The men be bathed in light, my love,
the women clothed in white, my love,
all in that wonderous fleet, my love,
as each the other meets,
will smile and softly sing,
will smile and softly sing.

And on some distant sand, my love,
the ships will gently land, my love,
their folk will meet them there,
my love, with flowing golden hair,
and great will be their joy and great will be their joy.

The moon is like a boat, my love,
of lemon peel afloat, my love,
and with a sail of gauze, my love,
she seems to slightly pause.