Blushing sunset,
Sands of the water,
Rush around me
And pull me down under.
Pale light, moonlight,
Cradles the child.
Who's holding it, dear,
With hands gone wild?
Darling duchess,
Thine scarlett tresses,
Waving in feathery air,
And wind, it rustles.
Little by little,
King's heart slowly withers,
Dusty and dim it has grown
More bitter.
I'll never deceive thine sword,
But never believe, thou
Gatherer of all of these words,
Or thou shall destroy me.
By and by,
'Tis look to the sky,
And now shall I try
And see it all in thine eye.
Merry the madness,
Never in sadness,
Never in agony lay thine heart
In times of need.
But nigh be thy winter,
Storms be thy filter
Of thine bedridden mind,
And thou soul doth it thither.
