Just so, gold citrine burns the sky,
o'er paling lures and gentle sighs.
Sweet one stargazing 'neath the trees,
hast thou a dalliance for me?

Until we meet, withhold goodbyes.

Awake not for a subtle cry;
dream on, for verity belies.
Arouse the king, and what may be?

Myth mine or yours? I quail to see.

Endless query, so soft nearby,
some answer's found in lullabies.

Until we meet, I think of thee;

my slumb'ring lord, obey my plea!
Your cognizance comes by the by.m
Myth mine or yours? I quail to see.