Life of my life, 'take not so soon thy flight
The last gift that death demands
When I am dead, my dearest,
Sing no sad songs for me;
Speak! if our souls in deathless yearnings meet;
Answer me, answer me!
And shall my soul that lies within your hand
Remember nothing,
And you as well must die, beloved dust,
And all your beauty stand you in no stead;
Glad did I live and gladly die,
And I laid me down with a will.