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He came as the Sun's promise
and followed the light of day
as he passed through these fertile lands.
And he wandered through the crowds
Naught a face nor a name,
Nor identity to claim.
So he came from east to west...
And I? I have not seen this face,
I have not passed that horizon.
The illuminated meadows,
Streaked with rays of gold,
Under the sun's glory
A picture painted bold.

Different hues of colour
Handled with tender care,
And the brightest stars pleasure
Is to watch the vista there.

Sunlight keen upon a jovial face,
Drawn with beautiful stroke.
Gay in this place to be;
This is where I lay my hopes.
She dresses in gossamer veils of scarlet and lures men to her noose
As they carelessly pour Fortune's gold into her nimble, covetous hands
And they hang themselves among the other piteous lepers before them.

As cruel as the Inferno, she drags them under as an enchantress would her dupes;
As beauteous as the beloved Aphrodite with eyes of white marble
She adds these dim men to her vast collection of trifles.

Then she disappears and I know she won't return.
For she is the Gypsy's Best.
I become weary in unconscious peace,
And dreams fill the every corner of night.
The moonlight seeps through the floors of heaven
To reveal the soft stillness of the light.

Stars twinkle like candles anew; nightlights, too.
And the moon sleeps to the lullaby she brings,
Humming to the melody, the sweet harmony.
The chill nighttime air filled with that of which the nightingale sings.

The fireflies dance from my midnight reverie
While the sound of music drifts to the sky,
I shift between sweet dreams and horrid fantasies,
But the night still brings my sweet lullaby.

— The End —