Life and I are lovers, straying Arm in arm along:
Often like two children Maying, Full of mirth and song, Life plucks all the blooming hours Growing by the way;Binds them on my brow like flowers, Calls me Queen of May.
Then again, in rainy weather, We sit vis-a-vis, Planning work we'll do together In the years to be.
Sometimes Life denies me blisses, And I frown or pout;But we make it up with kisses Ere the day is out.
Woman-like, I sometimes grieve him, Try his trust and faith, Saying I shall one day leave him For his rival, Death.
Then he always grows more zealous, Tender, and more true;Loves the more for being jealous, As all lovers do.
Though I swear by stars above him, And by worlds beyond, That I love him--love him--love him;Though my heart is fond;
Though he gives me, doth my lover, Kisses with each breath -I shall one day throw him over, And plight troth with Death.