When thou shalt lie, my darling, low

When thou shalt lie, my darling, low

In the dark grave, where they hide thee,

Then down to thee I will surely go,

And nestle in beside thee

Wildly I'll kiss and clasp thee there,

Pale, cold, and silent lying;

Shout, shudder, weep in dumb despair,

Beside my dead love dying.

The midnight calls, up rise the dead,

And dance in airy swarms there;

We twain quit not our earthly bed,

I lie wrapt in your arms there

Up rise the dead; the Judgment-day

To bliss or anguish calls them;

We twain lie on as before we lay,

And heed not what befalls them.