What happened my darling on that cold night?

The wind told well of secrets that chill me.

Was the stealer seen in that pale moonlight?

Or did he fade to shadows that 'scaped thee?

Like thief to store or robber to one's house, 

They take that which is holier than the rest.

But what happened that night at the boat house,

What thieves can steal can't equal that tempest.

Though while your story shakes my very bones, 

Folkes are weary of tales told by a dame.

And though what I will say no one condones, 

Be tacit and we'll play this wretched game.

          Together we will brave these dastardly days,

          And never again will you see darness's rays.