There is no dusk to be,
⁠There is no dawn that was,
Only there's now, and now,
⁠And the wind in the grass.

Days I remember of
⁠Now in my heart, are now;
Days that I dream will bloom
⁠White the peach bough.

Dying shall never be
⁠Now in the windy grass;
Now under shooken leaves
⁠Death never was.