Dear love, when droop my weary eyes,
And patient Death comes near and cries:
“Tired soul, come forth, and follow me.”
I ask that thou, my love, shall be
Wrapped close to my desiring breast,
So at the last I shall be blest
With transports of thy laughter. Laugh
In my arms ecstatic glee,
And cheer my soul, and I shall quaff
Thy fragrant breath and smile at thee.
Dear heart of joy, let my last hour
Know all thy wondrous merry power--
Rich in the graces of thy charms,
Laugh on through each entrancing kiss;
When I am locked in thy dear arms
Laugh me away to Death in bliss.