We humans have many ways to complain what burning sunlight gives more than a day's light, until purple moon cures us with her fondling balms,like every pain has a remedy to heal and future to grow.
Ah! stir well your fancy, fear not to tell me those deep heart secrets now,look the sun goes down the high hills and by the tree shades we sat,in adored pose;along side the lake we sat,kissed by the winds nigh.
