Music, when soft voices die,

Vibrates in the memory,

Odours, when sweet violets sicken,

Live within the sense they quicken.

Rose leaves, when the rose is dead,

Are heaped for the beloved's bed;

And so thy thoughts, when thou art gone,

Love itself shall slumber¹ on.

当温柔的歌声消散，

乐音，仍振颤着心弦；

当芬芳的紫罗兰凋残，

香气，仍萦回在鼻端。

当玫瑰花儿飘零，

在爱人枕畔洒满落英；

而当你离去匆匆，

神魂就在梦里与爱重逢。