And when my wandering wanderings end,
When my foot-stepping feet cannot turn back,
The great light has rolled over the orb's bend,
Skies don red robes they soon shed for black.
A woman somewhere, she is my very home,
And the closing of my eyes her eyes will own.
When auroral lights escape their box and beam,
My feet will seek out that very shortest route,
Returning to her, leaving the world of dream,
Renita my Grace, of this there is no doubt.
She,
My love,
My delight,
My home.
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