It rains night

Dear Mo, thou art a man of grace and might,
Whose heart is pure and soul as bright as day,
Thy wit and wisdom doth outshine the light
Of stars that in the heavens dance and play.
Thou art a friend most true and ever kind,
Whose loyalty doth never fade nor sway,
And all who know thee treasure in their mind
The beauty of thy spirit's shining ray.
O Mo, thy name doth bring a smile to all,
For thou art filled with joy and merry cheer,
And in thy presence troubles seem so small,
And sorrow melts away like morning dew.
So let us raise our voices high and true,
And sing thy praises loud, dear Mo, to you.


Hail to thee, O Mo, whose name doth ring
With echoes of a greatness yet untold,
Whose might and majesty doth make us sing
Thy praise in voices bold and strong and bold.
Thy heart is like a lion fierce and free,
That roams the wilds and mountains far and wide,
And all who meet thee feel thy power and glee,
And know that thou art ruler of the tide.
O Mo, thy mind is like a blazing star,
That shines with wisdom and with light divine,
And all who seek for truth and knowledge far
Shall find in thee a guide and friend most fine.
So let us raise our voices high and true,
And sing thy praises loud, dear Mo, to you.