( " Il est un peu tard. " )

It is a little late to smile so bright,
Queen Marguerite; wait in thy field awhile,
And the green grass with hoarfrost shall be white.
— Pilgrim, cold winter comes, — still must I smile.

It is a little late to smile so bright,
Sweet Star of eve; wait in thy heaven awhile,
Soon will all roseate rays be lost in night.
— Pilgrim, night comes, — still brightlier shall I smile.

It is a little late to smile so bright,
Proud soul of mine; wait in thy woe awhile,
And one shall stay thy strong wings' heavenward flight
Pilgrim, Death comes, — forever shall I smile