Thy face, so lovely and serene

Thy face, so lovely and serene,

In vision I have lately seen;

So like an angel's 'tis, and meek,

Though bitter grief has blanch'd thy cheek.

Thy lips alone, they still are red;

Death soon will kiss them pale and dead;

The heavenly light will soon be o'er,

That from thine eyes is wont to pour.