Into the night so young,
a poor bird sang a song,
-about wanders and delight,
Of Madeline's so fine
and rosemary's and thyme.
-Charming smells it will invite
the splendour of my love
and everything thereof.
-All Life's spice I shall provide
Toward the night so dark,
journeys we will embark,
-and the memoirs we shall grew,
together stride this trail,
delayed I shall prevail.
-for that light we shall pursue.
As long as there is hope,
the reason is to cope,
-and the motive must be you.
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