Give me my bride in this orchard bright,
And take not the scene of no delight.
Take me to my father's grave,
And give me not his handsome slave.

We dance in these flowers falling,
Just as all my life I've been calling.
Look into her soft-skinned face,
You will fall into love with grace.

She is my Sorrow, my Muse,
Of such perfection any can accuse.
My heart is entirely in hers
While her hand on me stirs

Up wonderful emotions inside.
When you feel this, you must decide:
Keep the love you cherish
Or let Cupid's one shot perish.

Our dance one day will end,
Our hearts to never mend.
We stray from his path so numb,
And into one epitaph we become.