Long after earthly love has lived and died And friendship come and gone in rolling waves, Long after joy and pain have had their way And youthful beauty passed away with age, Still will music, my first love, remain And I, now wizened, dying, will still play A song not sad or joyous, but serene, And with a gentle, frail whisper, sing. And when I’m dead, you’ll hear the sighing wind, And hear the tolling of the garden chimes, And think, perhaps, that I am in the song That nature still will sing when I am gone. I will not die, my body not decay, But in the cosmic harmony will play. I will not pass, nor breathe a final breath, But breathe into the cosmic song at death.