What a mysterious witch the lady is
That changes her face and colors her hair
Once golden and pale the blue of her gown
Blazes with color and then calms down
To a deep shade of night.
What wonders she works that mistress fair
That stains her lips red as she changes
And magically sets her dress afire
And the violent shades exchanges
For those that are twilight.
And darkening still her blue eyes bright
Turn swiftly into pinpoints of light
Her tresses have blackened and embers fade
As the mistress of night moves in
The maiden of day gives flight