When all my dreams are lively dreams no more,
And dirt, my winter blanket covers me;
To join as dust eternal time has store;
The fate of fates does destine mine to be.
No shine of summer reach below the field
Let barren as the life had lived, now low,
But lest a bed of grass have fresh dirt shield
So none may think me buried six below.
That gentle patter of the autumn winds
Not play the beat this core once drummed ago
When spring did glow before what time recinds,
Leave damp and lonely soil and all it's woe:
That cold; be all my seasons, all of four
If I am not to see you evermore.