& Laughter-Songs

'twas this sun, our noble hunter - who gave the roar of his hoarse voice couching before our queen, the moon couching with many rays of songs! & his sharp eyes did like some prodigals beckon the benevolence of a rustic mistress - o, late came the regency laughters like bells ringing deeply into the ears of niger damsels; nature suffocates as creation suffers disasters - are the deeper palaces of my niger goddess now a tumult of a myriad of our sun-burnt stars lingering with some fears, tears & laughter-songs?