This age, this time we spend in sigh,
years which youth oft hadn’t wrought,
this path which now leads us nigh;
we savor moments, lessons taught.
At last, the journey comes this far,
the revelrie, children wild at play,
now all but shades of valiant spar;
to savor this night, to share this day.
Such peace, both of flesh and mind,
to taste the wind, and kiss the night,
‘ere stars burn on, and moon is kind;
to live this breath, our souls in flight.
What ease, a blanket age well sewn,
but soft, her flesh, the only weight,
her beauty dear, her love is known;
that with each breath, we thus elate.
At rest, slumber ‘neath sheltered eve,
stars are counted, ‘ere clouds remain,
nothing lost, thus, none shall grieve;
no dreams e’er know a scar of rain.
‘Ere I, and she, the stars, and sky,
this masquerade, our pageant made,
to know not how, nor wonder why;
as flesh enfolds, all wan does fade.