So fair your eyes, that blind of blue

comes in form didaded by mine eyes

Your swich of hair, like the ebony mar,

Comes true in such that I think

I feel your blackness decend in my soul

the sun, my dark prince, rises fair

the orchre touch of the golden pinnacle

doth harness the weakness in you.

Please steal to thine chamber

and rest until night comes high

and by the full of the moon

may you travel afar to my room

and the dark of us we will share

flitting from shadow to seam

of the late hours that race by

and then rest agaig,

So weakness no more your way comes

and take mine cup tonight,

drink deep of the Sombre charms

that engage your heart

and we'll pledge our lives to eternity.

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