The roses hush, the breezes rest,
The night holds fast what it loves best.
Your smile redeems, your gaze commands,
And folds the dark within your hands.

Where ancient stones once seemed so cold,
Your warmth transforms their weary hold.
Each crack is gold, each scar is new,
When touched by light that comes from you.

The roses hush, their colors pale,
As if they bow to what you hail.
The stars retreat, the moon grows mild,
And crowns the night with heaven’s child.