R. F. White

“ While birds sing soft and low,
The singer paused for an instant, while the six, now formed into a semi-circle, hummed together softly a suggestion of distant nightingales. Not an imitation—that would be too banal—but a suggestion. ”

“ The six placed both hands on their breasts and stood with bowed heads, motionless except for a continuous and rhythmic bending of the knees, while Bertie sang the chorus softly, lingeringly. Then, stretching out their arms, they swayed their bodies from side to side as their leader had previously done, while Bertie himself drifted in and out between them, and all rendered the chorus for the second time.
Moon, moon, moon,
We'll come soon, soon,
Across the hills while all the world is dreaming. ”