a maiden dares to veil her face, hidden now by shrouds of midnight blue silk and lace
and although the voluminous fabric hides her wide and darting eyes,
her sigh of wistfulness does not escape the notice of the one who soft approaches.
and though she steps delicately over the conduits of merchants mean and voracious, varied
and as she tiptoes past the worn and crumbling pillars of viaducts grand and tragic both,
her walk of longing unfulfilled is not hidden from the eyes which spy her now, he approaches.
and little pricks of starlight strewn in her silken hair do frame a face and form of beauty
yet her tears do hotly fall upon the earth, even as her hands softly brush the boughs of trees, eagerly.
and so as her face pales in no uncertain terms, he steps close and whispers, lo – he approaches.
Oh, my lady sweet and friend most dear, I have a jewel for thou to fix in thine raven hair. Yea, accept it, I pray!
But, oh, my lord – I must confess, I have already a jewel of mine own that in my hair I wear.
Yes, it is of luster dim and quickly fading and not by half as glorious as the one you bear.
But, oh, my lord – I must confess, it is precious to me. And I love it so, even so I dare, my lord.
My lady loved and friend most dear, that jewel of yours, does it not make thine heart sere, a leaf upon the wind.
I pray thee, take this rising sun, this gem of greatest price. To thee I offer, maiden fair. It is thine.
and so as he kneels before her upon the land, a blinding jewel of light and beauty in his hand,
he bows his head in quick anticipation and quivering does she take this jewel from him, exultation!
and oh she lifts the rich-wrought gem to her brow and though she cries, her song is one of beauty unrivaled.
oh the veil falls from her face, oh the light beams upon that maiden’s silk and lace
and although her eyes shimmer wetly with her tears, no longer do her eyes dart to and fro in fears,
her sigh of wistfulness now resolved, her heart swells in newest blissful song, eternity approaches.