For may autumn deaths bring but a carcass of sorrow souls,
    Yet April showers may hinder thou'st flowers a'grows.

For may the wind howl into the emptiness of the midst of night,
    Yet shall the songbirds still sing their lovely tunes tonight.

For may the graceful tide, like the seasons only to come and go,
    Yet shall graceful tide meet graceful wind hath it truly blow.

For may wholesome hearts shatter at the hands of lingering fate,
    Yet when whole again shall the butterflies cherishly mate.

For may wandering spectres be'st that which resembles you,
    Yet when the day is over, shall speak'st nothing but adieu.