Seldome home of loves despair,
Upon the fruit lie naked bare.
Amongt a song as silver rings,
And gold it softly sings.
The moon, oh round as heaven sent,
The trail of wanderer whom went.
As sandy shore has beckoned will.
The night lay upon your skin so still.
It shined as brilliance lay its head,
Upon the tears your soul did wept.
And lastly broke the fringe of skies.
Who loftly echoe til death they die.