O' grace, a night, a soundless night
An eerily echoing rue
Of moons, thine eyes, so divinely bright
And lo, made I a fool
'Ere ashes I fall, succumbing to thus
The reign of a gluttonous blue
Henceforth
The eyes, they wandered south
Unto the drapes she keep
So I, with steadfast courtly heed
As I would a porcelain pot
Berate me not, for I have sinned
Her purity, thieved by me