Mortal, should you pass our way at amber gloaming's end, when the fire of day fades to dusk and purple mist descends,
Look closely, through a window seeming darkly spinning see, imperfect liquid glass, a waking mystery!
The emerald glow of chambers deep where rivers flow; then widen to sleep: a promise you'll find within.
Listen, softly singing, one note---repeating.
Come closer, mortal. Of earthly tone, however fair; of mortal love, none compare. Seek thy solice within my arms. I call you, now, by my charms; lest you wake to find me gone. If so, remember....
Mortal, should you pass our way, come not at twilight; for by chance or whim or purpose true, we keep forever those who do!
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