'Tis Pity'

			
Two days she writhed a wretched waltz
For days she would not cry
Too strong of heart, too strong of heart
‘Tis pity that she died
 
Beauty of beauty, the cursed daughter,
Foresaw his pleasure as self slaughter
But noble of mind and noble of deed
No warning she saw in sanctified creed
But postponed it was, but here it is come,
That beauty of beauty is split from one
 
‘Tis pity yes, ‘tis pity that
She died without good-bye
But that heart, what a lovely heart,
Sighed a lovely sigh