the bouquet of love soured, on your departure day
the coldest ever eyes were present, on your departure day

the bloom of spring's glory, lost its divine array
streaming tears flowed, sorrowful twas the day

withered, spent, finished, were the petals of May
joy's bliss in your arm's, faded into greyest shade of day

our union diminished in the pollen cup, most awful was the display
all tender feelings vanished, never could it be a lovely day

a sad wind blows on our floral tomb, sweet love lies in decay
nothing but nothing remains, what a melancholy day