Blithe.

I could not take down the sun, nor write a note upon it's cause, the moon seeks valuation and the tides shall never pause

I could not see the embers, how she burns to such extreme,  but caught myself in such a longing,  with eyes that long to dream,

I could not take down the sun, I'm partial to her ways, I long for her fulfilment,  how she brightens up my day's,  I could not note thereafter nor before her rise and fall, but know it's of a certain becoming when she wakes or calls,

I could not be delighted in morning,  I could not mourn the past, I've found in her the greatest giving, and her warmth shall everlast,  I could not be delighted in morning for she keeps thee satisfied 
To watch as she moves slowly across the heart of those who've cried,

Be that she is always light and in her place could none compare,  so I could not represent or replace her loveing care 

I could not find her shadows,  brighter is she whom warrants life, and so the moon is absent now, for morrow seeks in blithe.