The Borderland Moon
The bright moon is above the Peak of Heaven
In the far cloud-sea of Tartary.
The wind sweeps on for ten thousand miles
And blows over the Pass of the Jewel Gate.
The imperial army marches down the Po-tung road
While the barbarian foe pries the Bay of Chin-hai.
The warriors watch the skies of the borderland,
And many faces are sad with thoughts of home.
Never yet from the battlefield
A man was seen returning — alas!
To-night at the high house, where she is waiting,
There is sighing and moaning without ceasing.
In the far cloud-sea of Tartary.
The wind sweeps on for ten thousand miles
And blows over the Pass of the Jewel Gate.
The imperial army marches down the Po-tung road
While the barbarian foe pries the Bay of Chin-hai.
The warriors watch the skies of the borderland,
And many faces are sad with thoughts of home.
Never yet from the battlefield
A man was seen returning — alas!
To-night at the high house, where she is waiting,
There is sighing and moaning without ceasing.
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