Let down your flaxen hair, come sit by me, remain awhile, the fire is bright and warm. Chill night will soon withdraw and bring the dawn and you'll be gone, and I'll no longer see your face, or hearken to your sweetened voice, the strains of days mean nothing to my ears; they hold no sway in challenging my fears and my anxieties, you are my choice. Abide my sweet and be my heart's desire; sing softly, raise my soul on angel's wing and fly with me to everlasting spring where we shall be pressed close in passion's fire.