I
O, how the heart sings in lithe light,
A swift sigh, soft abandonment;
The fleeting fall of thy tender feet,
Flowers manna dew.

II
I had met a man in the dale,
Bright Eyes - however downcast;
Its worthy gaze somehow saddened,
In sombre spirit.

III
Weathered hands I care to caress,
And curve his mouth in joyful poise;
Whisper kisses four to thy brow,
Thy Joy intwined mine.

IV
No birds sing in this clouded day
But I hold thy spirit cradled
*Estel I call to strengthen thee
My presence in rain.