Luke Hsieh to Tracey

A natural masquerade,

On spring rise, on winter fade,

Here's a gentle butterfly,

And a fair rose thither lie,

With zephyr and warm spring sun,

A dance inspired, a waltz sprung,

Wherefore lovers' hearty bliss,

Within strangers' idle kiss?

But they both did fairly smile,

A rose and a butterfly,

One is disposed to fly while

The other may only eye,

Rosy tears do none but pray,

Lovers' bliss can longer stay,

The Viennese waltz comes to end,

The spring lovers' does part friends,

Rose in kissing words implore,

The butterfly to linger more,

Waltzing tune never lingers,

Neither do words by lovers,

Butterfly may promise its return,

Rose may swear upon its heart burn'd,

We may scorn upon their love and promises,

For neither will live when autumn demises.