Darkseed

...and after a many summer dies the swan
It withers slowly in thine arms
All night long amorous anthems sung
It's tears on your cheek, history of the fan
Sweet is the breath of night
with charm of earliest birds
Close over us, the silver star, thy guide
Dying embers, our only light
(scorching away mortality
Till the moon rising in clouded majesty)
But see the many-coloured prime retired to rest
Thy long tongued blood demands supplies
Honour and beauty are but dreams