1.
Swifter far than summer's flight—
Swifter far than happy night,
Swifter far than youth's delight—
    Art thou come and gone—
As the earth when leaves are dead, 
As the night when sleep is sped,
As the heart when joy is fled,
    I am left alone, alone.

2.
The swallow summer comes again—
The owlet night resumes her reign— 
But the wild-swan youth is fain
    To fly with thee, false as thou.—
My heart today desires tomorrow;
Sleep itself is turned to sorrow;
Vainly would my winter borrow 
Sunny leaves from any bough.

3.
Lilies for a bridal bed—
Roses for a matron's head—
Violets for a maiden dead—
    Sadder flowers find for me. 
On the living grave I bear
Scatter them without a tear—
Let no friend, however dear,
    Waste a hope, a fear, for me.

 Jack Knutson