Her cheeks, a brown maid's gleaning on the leas,
Will love grow less?
"Will love grow less when Autumn sighing there
Broods with long frost streaks in her dark, dark hair;
Tears in grave eyes as in grave heavens above,
Deep lost in memories' melancholy, love,
Will love grow less?
"Will love grow less when Winter at the door
Begs on her scant locks icicles as hoar;
While Death's eyes hollow o'er her shoulder dart