You ask how I would like to die?
Toward evening in the month of May,
Where dancing shadows love to play,
In jessamine bower, where harebells sway,
On some fair day, I’d pass away.

You ask how I would like to die?
Where blue forget-me-nots are seen,
And perfumed roses, purple sheen,
Would play on lips and breast, I ween,
When my sick heart should end its dream.