But none shall weep a tear for me.
My life is like the autumnal leaf.
That trembles in the moon’s pale ray;
Its hold is frail, its date is brief,
Restless and soon to pass away;
Yet ere that leaf shall fall or fade,
The parent tree shall mourn its shade;
The winds bewail the leafless tree,
But none shall breathe a sigh for me.
My life is like the print that feet