My desire

O celestial sorrow,

Wilt thou never cease?

Shall to suff'ring mortals

Never come sweet peace?

But if pain's my portion,

Of pain let me die,

Such is my desire,

My desire.

Tired am I of knowing,

Sympathy is dead.

I'd speak not nor listen,

Neither hope nor dread,

Mocking like an echo

Comes e'en my last sigh,

Then, oh, let me die,

'Tis my desire.

In a sleep unbroken

Ever would I rest.

Never to awaken

In Earth's dreamless breast.

This the end, a blest one,

To it I aspire;

Give me my desire,

My desire.