Should you\'re love wain; It\'s Violence less
And say you\'d love no more ;
I\'d don the garb of Mourning dress,
Hang Wreaths upon the door.
There\'d be no Dawn or Sunset blush
The Heavens a Blanket Grey;
All Strains of Music forever hushed ,
Where once they often played.
What need of Nature\'s striking Bloom
The Colours and Summer scent;
Keep all your joys for another whom ,
Your majesty was surely meant.
Should you\'re love wain; It\'s Violence less
A flame that warms no more;
What is life but foul distress :
The days but Bleak and Poor.