Oh Brin Hastings you left my heart shaken. With the hopless desolation. I have you to know. It's the wonders of admiration your quiet face has taken. And your beauty will haunt me where ever I go.

The white moon above the pale suns. The pale stars above the trees. Her place is beside me. Theres no purer then she. I gaze upon the cold moon. Till the stars drawen into the sea. And the bight eyes of my darling are upon me. My Sunday is weary. My Sunday it is gray now. My heart is a cold thing. My heart is a stone.

All joy is dead in me. My life has gone away now. Another has taken my love for his own. The day it is approching and we were to be married. And it is rather I die then live on to grieve. Oh me my darling, as the sun sets over the barley. I'll greet you there on the road that leads you back to me.

Brin Hastings you have my heart shaken. With the hopeless desolation I have you to know. It's the wonders of admiration. Your quiet face has taken. And your beauty will haunt me where ever I go.