The roses hush, their fragrance still,
It bends itself to match your will.
The night grows soft, the shadows bend,
To guard the light they can’t defend.

You lean where ivy weaves its crown,
The stones beneath no longer frown.
Your beauty bends their weight away,
And fills their cracks with softest day.

The twilight hums a quiet song,
It guards your light the whole night long.
Each shadow bows, each star will stay,
To mark the path you’ve lit their way.

Where ancient walls recall the past,
Your beauty carves a flame to last.
The dusk obeys, the breezes bend,
And follow where your steps descend.