DEATH OF A POOR SOUL (AN ELEGY)

Life is like a blazing star
Blossom in the summer in the fall it is gone
Life is like an evening star
Shining in the evening in the morn it is gone

Should I call thee a song?
Or better, a memory of the funeral
And crying, I will hit the gong
Minding not the pains in my humeral

The lasting bond we built
Now broken in the everlasting depth
And love we thought can't tilt
Now forgotten in the coldest depth

But hush for thou liveth
Forever fresh, fresh in my memory box
And in Mem'ry lane I giveth
Way to streams from my sighting box

But can one really live again,
If one lying straight in the opening deep?
We shalt wait thee to regain
Thy breath from thy lasting sleep.

And in the new order live
Where death and its sting will forever die
and in eternal joy thrive
But for now we wait and cry

For Life is like a blazing star
Blossom in the summer in the fall it is gone
Life is like an evening star
Shining in the evening in the morn it is gone