Leave me some fragment of our love,
Some remnant of our bliss,
That I may drink the joy thereof
Through days more bleak than this.

When Summer fares forth on the wind,
Do all her blossoms go?
Nay! Some white flower she leaves behind
To still the Autumn's woe;

And all her dear remembered grace
Lives on, because of this;
So of our love leave me one trace--
One last and deathless kiss!