At last you've come, (with something of a subtle grace) O' obscurity that smile on your face, now lacks love. From a distance I hear the sojourn of the wind, it speaks of our end - as if its known all along. This night the stoic moon shares it's lonely glow as if it also knows - this night our joining's severed. And all the stars dim to sorrow, mourning the murder of our love, one falls below from above - a symbol of our parting. And her lips touched mine, but for a moment of bliss, one sweet mortal kiss - then she passed like a clandestine comet.