Currently to you my spirit’s pathetic —
Simply too sweet, too sympathetic,
But it’s when we grow older,
And Time’s hourglass dwindles;
When this world’s a bit colder
From sly Romance’s swindles
You’ll yearn my love guaranteed —
All its warm compassion that softens —
Realizing this same pitiful heart’s indeed
The most caring amongst you coffins.
But fret not, dear, Fate’s funny in a way,
And O together we’ll be again one day
As you in the ground to decompose
And I upon your grave, a single
red rose.