The Moon is called M.

A beautiful night, look up at the stars,
And hear the chirping crickets' tune.
There sits Orion, and yonder sits Mars,
But where, oh where, is the Moon?

The smell of the air is ripe with the mist
And yet there sits no cloud above
I'm filled with despair, for something's amiss
Where, where is the Moon that I love?

Where now are her silver beams drifting?
As if light, made still, touched my lips?
The night hours cannot be uplifting
In the midst of a Lunar eclipse.

A glimmer of starlight does shimmer along
The rippling face of the lake
But the stars do not blush, so the vision is wrong
And so my heart begins to ache

The fireflies dance a dizzying dance
Their pattern, how it traces the air
But the light, for me, holds little romance
Where my love was, a darkness is there.

The wind through the maples now mocks me.
How it seems now, to whisper her name...
The loneliest feeling now stalks me;
For you and the moon are the same.

So here I will sit, and wait for dawn's light
For silver-lit kisses I'll yearn.
I'll heavily sigh, I'll sit through the night,
And pray for my Moon to return.