Outside your window
I’d like to be Inside
I’d like to be next to you
You have nothing to hide
Outside your window
I’d like to be Inside
I’d like to be next to you
You have nothing to hide
But evil things, in robes of sorrow, Assailed the monarch’s high estate
Ah, let us mourn, for never morrow, Shall dawn upon him, desolate and round about his home
The glory that blushed and bloomed Is but a dim-remembered story, of the old time entombed.
By Edgar Allan Poe