Sing For The Garish Eye

Sing for the garish eye,         When moonless brandlings cling!     Let the froddering crooner cry,         And the braddled sapster sing.     For never, and never again,         Will the tottering beechlings play,     For bratticed wrackers are singing aloud,         And the throngers croon in May!     The wracking globe unstrung,         Unstrung in the frittering light     Of a moon that knows no day,         Of a day that knows no night!     Diving away in the crowd         Of sparkling frets in spray,     The bratticed wrackers are singing aloud,         And the throngers croon in May!     Hasten, O hapful blue,         Blue, of the shimmering brow,     Hasten the deed to do         That shall roddle the welkin now!     For never again shall a cloud         Out-thribble the babbling day,     When bratticed wrackers are singing aloud,         And the throngers croon in May!