Dusk is gone and the midnight hour beckons,

When the flowers sleep, and the night's dew does its dance.

Where the willow hangs her tired head

And sleeps under twinklings of twilight dreaming.

When the nightingale

Serenades the moon cast meadows,

That place of evening's repose.

When all is quiet

When all is dark

When all the earth rests

Replenishing,

Waiting for the rise of Sun

And greater possibility.