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Kind full heart her will embrace,

Of white and black and heeled lace,

My eyes upon your sorrowful spell,

As swiftly as the clocks still dwell.

And in the past we do incur,

The sanctum of the heavens hue,

But alas the weep of angels tear,

As love wanders near.

And in the mortal world of fire,

Is suffrage due a found desire,

Of every proof and not betrayed,

Come wither as I gently lay.

To sleep so restful and in lace,

As winters dawn, morn completes,

The sky will tell the founding flock,

To hear the golden tick and silver tock.