And here, my love, I proffer draught of ale,
A sterling stein and chilled ’til froth is frost.
A darker brew for one who shuns the pale,
Rich barley malt aged sturdy and robust.
And when the morning sun comes dancing
through the drapery in your den, sweet esprit
of amaranth awash with last night’s dew
will light your window sill with melody,
And in the golden light of memory,
I will come to you.