We have but a second in eternity,
To make a human life divine,
We are but only for a moment truly free,
Till we return to our confine.
Twilight hours and lambent fires,
Promising thoughts and arresting desires,
Clinquant stars and lunar rays,
Mesonoxian minutes and gloaming haze.
Cloaked in mystery and an ineffable air,
She bestows favours with comical whimsy,
Providing luck without regard or care,
Her reason notoriously hard to see.
I know it’s not in my power to stop the stars from falling,
But perhaps I can not look at them as they do,
You said some beauty lay within the spirit of the twilight,
That forever was written in the constellations,
Oh don't let thy passion break free,
Taciturn and reserved thou should be,
Hearken to Werthur, the poor man,
Who was undone by effusive passion.