1

The beauty of times whereas in dreams I see

The methodical singing herds

Ringing of times past - and all thy melody

Of forever erased words -

2

Thine eyes are of beauty, with thy soul enshrined

To soon disastrously fall,

Lo! Arceus! I shall catch thee upon my funeral mind

Like sweet stars of our royal ball.

3

Thy beating heart - thy sweet heart! - I awake and sigh,

And sleep once more to dream of the day

Of melancholy beauty that gold can never buy -

Of the tormenting that it may.