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Gracious are the daughters of the circle of the sun,
Greeting all the people on the way,
Gentle as the morning dew and mindful of the one
Helios, keeper of the day.

Joy, daughter of the morning, beautiful and bright,
Lovelier than lotus blossoms, sister to the moon,
Harmony, thy mother, hath fled the wolf tonight,
Paradise, thy lover, is dead or dying soon.

And Apollo was mindful of His daughter,
And kept one eye on Harmony too, 
In case the wolf returned to slaughter,
The maiden as she grew.

Mother and daughter brought beautiful flowers,
To the Temple of Apollo every day,
And those who walked for many hours,
Would sacrifice and pray.

Apollo, was mindful, that Joy not taste of death,
And she lanquished, inside, on dark and dreary nights,
When children stop to catch their breath,
Before the nightfall bites.

Unsuspected by all, Apollo, in His haste, 
Had saved the heart of Paradise,
Before the wolf could have a taste,
And call the carnage nice.
 
And Paradise, as heart only,
Needed a bosom to beat,
And Joy, both sad and lonely
Was lately incomplete.

So Apollo took the heart of Paradise,
And placed His heart in Joy,
Of such is not an evil vice,
When good and light employ.

Until, Apollo’s wife, Trooluv,
Came in disguise one day,
And though her mischief was above,
Her mind was meant to prey.

When Paradise fell fast in love,
Trooluv played hard to get,
But Paradise, was scheming of,
A plan to win her yet.

Of course, Paradise’s scheming,
Was heard by Joy's heartstrings, 
Joy told Apollo, who wasn't beaming,
To learn of lewd and other things.

But Joy, who blessed Her Father’s name,
Beseeched the God she came to love,
And that’s how Joy found Paradise,
The day they found Trooluv.

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