Curse of the Summer Children

Oh Summer Children,
Nymphs of sand and sea,
Are you wiser or more the fool?
In that brightness of the sun,
do you forget the night's horrors?
Or is the night all the more terrible
in its contrast to the brightened day?
Oh Summer Children,
Skin dark, warm and smooth,
never die, but shift from aging face,
to a newer one,
like the shedding of a skin,
and make thee as whole immortal
so we may look on with envy,
at a beautiful lie.