Bright, and clear and azure blue,

Tearless eyes that have forgot

Far-grown loves, or find it not,

As sunlight melts the morning dew.

Here in this cool afternoon,

ensorcelled blue, and yet so brief

The zephyrs brush away our grief

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Mute beneath a spectral moon.

In dreams then, the finch and lark,

sing softly of the seasons flown

of love that wanders yet alone,

Until at last the days turns dark

In silence, then, the heart then grieves

these umbral days, this dead year's dream,

But hope endures in starlight gleam,

While gentle winds caress the leaves.