Where ancient walls hold weary scars,
Your beauty kindles brighter stars.
The past itself dissolves in grace,
When dawn awakes within your face.

The roses hush, the breeze grows shy,
It hides its voice as you pass by.
The stars grow faint, the moon turns mild,
To guard the glow the night compiled.

The stones grow soft, the ivy sways,
They sing your name in quiet praise.
Each shadow bends, each whisper calls,
For beauty rules above these walls.