THE WHITE WINDOW

The moon comes every night to peep

Through the window where I lie,

And I pretend to be asleep;

But I watch the moon as it goes by,

And it never makes a sound.

It stands and stares, and then it goes

To the house that's next to me,

Stealing on its tippy-toes,

To peep at folk asleep maybe;

And it never makes a sound.