Theo, the sprig, which t’other day,
Your friendly gift, I brought away,
And gave the most conspicuous place
My unadorned room to grace,
Alas! With tears I tell it – fades,
And hastens quickly to the shades!
‘Tis thus, while things with you remain,
They all their liveliness retain;
But – lost the luster of your eye,
They pine with sadness, droop and die.