If I were dead, sweet one,
So innocent,
I know you'd laugh the same
In merriment,
And pat my pallid face
With chubby hands and fair,
And think me living, as
You'd tangle up my hair.

If I were dead, loved one,
So young and fair,
If I were laid beneath
The grasses there,
My face would haunt you for
A while—a day, maybe—
And then you would forget,
And not remember me.

If I were dead, sweet one,
So innocent,
I know you'd laugh the same
In merriment,
And pat my pallid face
With chubby hands and fair,
And think me living, as
You'd tangle up my hair.

If I were dead, loved one,
So young and fair,
If I were laid beneath
The grasses there,
My face would haunt you for
A while—a day, maybe—
And then you would forget,
And not remember me.