As rose begins to light the skies,
Dew'd petals wake from sleep,
As songs of thrush in air arise,
'Midst swallows' swoop and leap,

In that beauty, harsh and hard,
A canard's tail slithers,
A falsehood dressed in truth all marred,
A golden poppy withered,

And shadows grow from day to night,
Crushing love's embrace,
And darkness smothers beacons bright,
The light of Divine Face.