I fear not death, but death without rebirth
For how'll I'll doubly miss the southern spring;
The flowers past and future petal'd earth
Would sprout in distant plays of everything.
If far from view, then even worse a - fate,
As I without a touch will too not see;
The blossoms of my land and gentled mate;
For she does loves the spring as beauty; she.
Tho' be with heaven's angel's, high and sweet
Without my love and spring I'd barely breathe;
In yearn for her below and petal's treat,
Then best let I just lay with dirt my sheathe.

But wake me into light when she too passed
For into heaven, she'll bring spring to last.