Tis Eventide
When waning setting sun descends,
doth fullest golden moon arise.
Imaginings take starry flight,
with moonglow dreams of lovers dawn.

So here in these imagined dreams,
a Sonata of the heart is sung,
to one who knows not how he's loved.
Secretly in Eventide, I can tell him so.

Tis then a kiss, combined of tears,
that flow of joy at last as one.

For these two in their middle days,
have now just found soulmate true,
and know a love as not before.

Pray God this dream may soon arise,
as Eventides sweet song becomes,
a duet Sonata sung as one.