Tell me when autumn comes
For I must leave, you see
Tell me when the first leaf falls
For I must set you free
Tell me when the rose withers on its thorned crown
For when the rose has lost its hue I cannot comfort thee.
I leave though I am pained at thoughts
Of seeing you no more
I leave though grieved I am at circumstances
That carry me off shore.
Oh, tell me now, before I go
That you still love me so
Tell me, quick, as winter nears
That your love shall endure.