She danced like the weather – wane,
Drove the wind insane,
And laughed till she bled.
Inside the mounting storm,
A glow-worm was born,
On the petal-cade.
Cherry trees blossomed in the shadows of the moon,
White tears glazed the lost tune,
And she cried till he said.
“ Hide thy wounds, Midnight- girl,
Thy dance torments God’s Pearl,
Into the Morning-star thou must fade!”