In the churning misty blue twilight,
When the encroaching night beats the broken day back,
I look for your figure among the ancient trees
Steepled in white and black.
I follow you into a different clime
Hunting the living silver streaks of light
Finding a resting place where we two can meet
Until this long night flees before us. Startled like a hart in the forest
Losing ground, unable to tarry where you are
the pitiless night cannot stay
In the place you will see it
It is your aspect that doth inspire the new day.
As in the soft and sweet eclipse,
When soul meets soul on lovers' lips...