Sweet is the shade of twilight glade

Sweet is the opulence of smiling shade.

For he who fathoms the abysmal arcane

Wonders what is cryptic, is all that sane?

Sweet is the rose on a rosy day

Have they lulled into a mystic spray?

When the night yawns to the morning tide

When the moon kisses the morning light

The sun dawns the living morn

In quest of a long yearned forlorn.

Is it all a mystic myth?

Bliss of the lonely

A tender hitch?