' Twas cruel to peep at lover's fate
As reaper crept upon their gate
The roses, wilting, as he glide
With eerie repose in his stride

Through the garden, in the house
A creak, you stir, begin to rouse
Affront with ghastly hooded shadow
For which now I a weeping widow

Did dream ferry you to heaven?
Was death a peace when it happened?
Did you walk through the veil that appeared?
To other world of perfect care?

My love I died long ago in my head
My ardour vanished, my passion spent
Brood in woe, scribe this lament
For neglecting to have mentioned what you meant