Richard Coeur de Lion and Blondel

The moonlight; sleeps low, on the hills of Provence; / The stars are all tracking, their paths in the sky: / How softly, and brightly, their golden orbs glance, / Where the long shining waves, of the silver Rhone lie

The tow'rs of De Courcy rise high in the beam, / From sky to earth trembling, so lustrous and pale, / Around them there dwells the deep hush of a dream, / And stilled is the murmur of River, and Gale.