A heart that beats toward coming dawn

Like soft steps of newborn fawn

Like waves upon a mornings shore

Like lines to bard’s tales of lore

A slow rhythmic dance of life

To melody of flute and fife

That drift on waves of fragrant air

With neither thought nor fleeting care

The drum that beats in the deep

A rhythm that the fates must keep

The flowing of sands of time

A mountain that all men must climb

This measured beat set in stone

Threads by which the fates had sown

Ushers worlds forward toward

The tolling of the final chord

Everything must meet its end

Its time from this world finally rend

And move it on to better shore

To earth beyond the golden door