Rising slowly above the resting woods
A shining beacon cresting o'er the hill
Less faithful is the night and worldly goods
Predations friend coming in for her kill

So great your sorcerous spirit at night
Can safely only hide in your shadow
Legends of sorrow be blamed in your sight
Places where the quail cry in the meadow

Where all speech is soft, all manners gentle
Mumbled creatures cover with hooded heads
Murmers and chanting all transcendental
Cloaked in their long robes with darker threads

To safely watch in her shadow is odd
Precession of a perihelion god