For you the stars,
I\'m the moon to stare at?
For inasmuch as thou speak peace, ceasefire, and youngness,
Healable and loveable spell of all folks,
What florets that should place my bosom,
Let winged bugs come sure about here,
Their glass wings on amber or cherry some,
Beyond tho\' and be my locale there.
Thou built a house of idyll,
And where you\'d dub my name-
Love for should all adore it,
And endowed my heart whole to it.
Oh bud, of Lavender Inn, easy as been in the wind,
See butterflies flying, and are not high-flying!