We dream a little bit, are happy for a while,
We love a little bit and hold one another too.
We wreck a little bit our happiness and smile,
And then for e’er we say our parting Adieu,
Nothing else . . .
This may last for just a wink; or for ages we may roam;
Who wearies of the pause may hope and hope again.
The dead find ample time to wait beneath the loam,
The dead will wait the while we may despair in vain.
Nothing else . . .