I have planned and dreamt of this trophy of gold,
The halo of silver, around in which it molds.
I have cradles this idea and nursed it to true plan,
I have fed it seeds of confidence, O this is so grand!
How lofty atop your kingdom's throne you rest,
Pray, dim these stars, for (alone) your grace shines best.
No cloud can cloak your clean face of white,
For however masked, somehow, somewhere, you glow so bright!
You have marked your loyal entrance through water and sky,
I cannot quite reach you, but by me you lie.
A bed of water, I have crafted for you,
So near me you lay when I dream of us two.