As I draw up my breath
And silver fills my eyes
I kiss her still
For she will never rise

On my weak body
Lays her dying hand
Through those meadows of Heaven
Where we ran

Like a thief in the night
The wind blows so light
I wars with my tears
That won't dry for many years

"Love's golden arrow
At her should have fled
And not Death's ebon dart
To strike her dead"