When most of earthly children are glad to be alive,
Poor Mozart, worn by constant work and worried by his wife,
One dreary, dark December day to Death gave up his life.
This great soul's earthly castle not one friend tried to save
From an ignoble burial within a pauper's grave;
And no one put a marker to show where it was laid,
But the glory of great Mozart's works will never, never fade.