Dark is the night,
When the sun is swallowed by the lion.
Bright stars in their bridge, holding up the heavens.
Sleep travels in the dreary mist,
her brother Death close behind.
Twilight spreads her cloak o'er many
shrouding some forever.
Oh the Night, she flew too fast,
And the moon, she was not kind, for many days
she melted away, then began to wax again.
What euphoric joy it will be
to gaze upon her radiant face.
Yet the rapture will fade away again.
And the night is still dark,
And the lion still swallows the sun
The starry bridge is crumbling,
and the heavens come raining down.
Twilight draws ever near, veiling all with doom,
for Death has caught his sister Sleep,
and my love, my dear, is held
in a walless, dreamless keep.