When cometh the day I lie in rigid state
O’ercome by earth abounding, touched by the hands of fate
When consumeth the worms the shell of my being
May our times of mirth and woe ne’er depart of thee
Thus is the course of life, for the child in time
Shall bid farewell to youthful bosom, and subscribe to elder age
So too in due course shall cease to flow
The currents o’er the cragged stone, and decay the nature ‘round
And though thee one day shall frailty entertain
So fair wilt thou remain
Yet till that lamentable hour
When all be but expired
Thy tresses of auburn and eyes of azure
Will solace me thro’ th’ tempests of Summer
And th’ fury of Winter, the vernal blossoms
And the autumnal showers
Art thou my Beatrice, my queen, my belovéd fore’er