To P. A. G. Here They Trysted, Here They Strayed, In The Leafage Dewy And Boon, Many A Man And Many A Maid, And The Morn Was Merry June. 'Death Is Fleet, Life Is Sweet,' Sang The Blackbird In The May; And The Hour With Flying Feet, While They Dreamed, Was Yesterday. Many A Maid And Many A Man Found The Leafage Close And Boon; Many A Destiny Began - O, The Morn Was Merry June! Dead And Gone, Dead And Gone, (Hark The Blackbird In The May!), Life And Death Went Hurrying On, Cheek On Cheek - And Where Were They? Dust On Dust Engendering Dust In The Leafage Fresh And Boon, Man And Maid Fulfil Their Trust - Still The Morn Turns Merry June. Mother Life, Father Death (O, The Blackbird In The May!), Each The Other'S Breath For Breath, Fleet The Times Of The World Away.