Her bright eyes grew dim br Her ruddy cheeks grew pale br Her face like a dented kitchenware br Now a symbol of blighted loveliness br Sorrow buried in the recesses of her heart br She lets them cower and brood br Dormant fires, br Anytime may grow into a conflagration br Dry sorrow sucks her blood br Her sleep poisoned by melancholy br She has been a Moon br Now veiled by mist br Once she glowed with radiance and beauty br Now there is a wintry chill br Inside and outside br br In the shade of a giant oak, br She grew from a tender tree, br To the pride and beauty of the grove br Graceful in form br Bright in foliage br But struck by br An unexpected pestilence br It is withering br Drooping its branches down br Shedding leaf by leaf br To fall down and rot br Like that shady oak, abruptly cut down!br br Valsa Georgebr br