Today Is a Good Day To Scribe

Today is a good day to scribe

Invites to the north the disappointed sunshine,

Around my forehead I perceived the precious rise;

Were to remember the book of our affection;

A light upon the rapier and shadow played,

Wrapt by thy beloved haze, and thine desires

Every one she sealed behind her quiet town,

Moulded with ashes, by the shimmering moonlight,

Sat in silence under the shadow without star,

You would know the company of the bee could be

Scattered through the splendor like the wind at summer,

Some touch of that mystery with my desire.

A figure woven into beauty of bruin

Have piled them into His fiery tresses.

Even unto the life a separate symbol,

Illumined by a fire of fire of night,

Baron and Emperor and Emperor with Dane,

Seest thou the shadowy semblance of thine face,

Whereby our foe drank in this majestic spread,

Hiawatha stands listening near the wigwam?

Would reach our chariot, if our lives remain

High in the haze of a superior spectre

Swift as a star, or ethereal to purple,

Laid its low politeness by my power content,

Because I know it would stop our old chivalry.