The night's a great black silence

Wherein to shout small words

To fill it up, and call to help,

If need be songs of birds.

Come! Run and shout with me

To fill this black night up.

Shout words in the chilly air

And brim the evening's cup.

Shout all the words and sounds you know,

There's so much night to fill -

Wait! Stop! There's no more use -

The moon's behind the hill!