He who weeps for beauty gone,
Hangs about his head a stone
He who mourns for his lost youth
Daily digs a grave for truth.
He who prays for happy hours
Tramples upon earthly flowers
He who asks an oath from love
Doth thereby his folly prove.
Mourn not over much, nor stress
After love or happiness
He who weeps for beauty gone
Stoops to pluck a flower of stone.