So, two short months being sped, wert thou
Laid in the grave; so didst thou fade in death
Oh my chaste flower! And thy dying was
A smile as sweet as thy fair life had been.
God took thee pure as when He gave thee breath.
Sweet mystery of the home of innocence,
Songs, dreams of love, laughter and childish words,
And thou, all-conquering charm, unknown and mild,
Yet strong to make even Faustus pause before