I'll think of thee, I'll think of thee,
When raging tempests wildly blow,
Mid storm and darkness-wond'rous powers!
Heaping the stainless, virgin snow
Above thy fragile form, that bowed
Beneath the blighting frost that fell,
Scattering o'er earth those gorgeous hues,
Thy grace and pride, sweet Asphodel.

I'll think of thee, I'll think of thee,
When dreary winter leaves the plain,
And smiling spring leads forth in state,
With vestal pride, her flow'ry train,
And vernal songs of love and hope,
In one harmonious concert swell-
Amid the floral throng I'll turn
To thee, alone, sweet Asphodel.

I'll think of thee, I'll think of thee,
When morning dawns upon the world,
And through the golden gates of Heaven,
Like fiery cars his beams are hurled,
Driving the shades of somber night,
Back to their caverned haunts to dwell-
Thou'lt come to me with charms renewed,
My peerless flower, sweet Asphodel.