The dying winds of ebbing day

Rolled o’er meadows their wending way;

The distant peaks, each darkened spire,

Was bathed in waves of amber fire.

But not a setting beam could glow

Within the shadowed hearts below,

Where looped the path in darkness hid,

round the souls dispirited.

A sylph danced there in darkest night,

This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.

upon the winds in soft moonlight

Round many fallen abodes,

on lost paths, forgotten roads,

across vast and silent creeks

and through the gaps of mountain peaks.

The sylph danced across the skies,

with silver fires in her eyes.

Highest of all, where eagles glanced,

Where moonlit wanderers waved and danced,

The dreamer's eye could barely view

The midnight heaven’s navy blue

She danced across the star's parade,

from open light, to cloistered shade

till morning came with dewdrop sheen,

she came to rest in meadows green.

Around her, blooms of many dyes

Waved in the wind's autumn sighs.