When the sun settles down, its rays dreary and golden,
And the air crisp with evening dew
I'll be sitting here with a pocketful of thread
Stringing up a daisy chain for you
Many days you've spent on ploughing the meads
And harvesting crops for the few
Regardless of the fruit being sour or sweet
A field of roses waits here for you
Close your eyes and allow me to lay
A flower crown upon your heavy head
Permit the leaves to be your shelter,
The white petals to be your bed
And as the sky darkens and the tall trees rustle
The cool breeze slowing its pace
Blossoms rest in your silvery hair
Peace kissing your withering face
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