Her monsters, they come out at night
She tries not to fill her eyes with fright
Tugging under the pillow
Trying not to let the darkness make her feel low ...
Sometimes, to solace my sad heart, I say,
Though late it be, though lily-time be past,
Though all the summer skies be overcast,
Haply I will go down to her, some day,
And cast my rests of life before her feet,
That she may have her will of me, being so sweet
And none gainsay!