Ladies sight and white light,

Twirl and bask in the sunlight.

Flying to and fro the lake side,

Scraping much from frozen tides

Singing and dreaming

Of those lightly treading,

Whose vengeance falls

To that of lower walls.

The call they were waiting.

As pure but fading,

Color returns lightly

Masking them brightly.

Every year with the story

Comes with repeating history.