Like the dew before the sunshine, 
Like the light at close of day, 
Like the fading of the autumn leaves 
I’m passing now away. 
The hand of death is on me, 
And he’s welcome, as a friend 
For he suffering and sorrow brings 
Unto a peaceful end. 
When we cannot give back labour 
For the labour we receive, 
When our feeble words to harmony 
The mind can scarcely weave: 
When with pain and anguish sinking 
When our sun of health is set
Then is not death a blessing, 
To help us to forget? 
Then, welcome dissolution 
To the body and the brain, 
When I cannot give back labour 
For the labour that I gain. 
For I would not live a burden 
To one of human kind, 
To leave in debt and wretchedness 
A loving one behind. 
No! better when my toil is done 
To peacefully depart, 
And trust to loving sympathy 
To heal the wounded heart. 
Like dew before the sunshine 
Like the light at close of day, 
Like the fading of the autumn leaves, 
In love I’d pass away.