When the night’s shadows play, when the mignonette sheds its heavy perfume?
“The last faded petal dropped from the rose,
Although the offering was not sought by the wind.
So—we thought—will we give up our life,
Vanish into space like a sound,
Like autumn’s yellowed leaf go without a moan.
Death is the reward of life; may we meet it quietly,
Just as a rose lets its last faded petal fall.
“On its fluttering wing a bat flew by us,
Flew and was seen, wherever the moon shone;