What creature this, that comes in still of night,
Upon the wind, on feathered wings of grace?
'Tis thee mine Rose, in glow of Luna's light,
To soothe the tempest's ire; harsh storms complace.
Mine haven sought within thy satin bloom,
I drift no more upon life's raging seas,
For in thine arms, mine fading light relume,
As Dante's gales, thee calm to gentle breeze.
Fair Rose, my love for thee adamantine,
Shall evermore, within mine heart reside,
As I await once more the vespertine,
Mine harbor sought, upon thy eventide.
Thou art Venus, mine goddess of the night,
O' beauteous bloom, sweet jewel of welkin's light.
[This message has been edited by Mike (edited 03-23-2000).]