Within the center of the lonely rill,
A sunset emerges, growing taller 'til
It appears closer to many, as I fill
Another glass, with sands ne'er still.

The night shall yet another day fordo,
But she loves him, and loves him true.
Ah, yet! I, Time, mustn't forget lonely you,
I must add age, and subtract youth

-Yet you will love me, love me true!