My fate would know no winter, never die,
10Nor think of such a thing.
Oh that I could my bed of earth but view,
And smile, and look as cheerfully as you!
Oh teach me to see death and not to fear,
But rather to take truce;
How often have I seen you at a bier,
And there look fresh and spruce.
You fragrant flowers then teach me that my breath
Like yours may sweeten and perfume my death.