Reunion

My own sweet Love, if thou in the grave,

The darksome grave, wilt be,

Then will I go down by the side, and crave

Love-room for thee and me.

I kiss and caress and press thee wild,

Thou still, thou cold, thou white!

I wail, I tremble, and weeping mild,

Turn to a corpse at the right.

The Dead stand up, the midnight calls,

They dance in airy swarms --

We two keep still where the grave-shade falls,

And I lie on in thine arms.

The Dead stand up, the Judgment-day

Bids such to weal or woe --

But nought shall trouble us where we stay

Embraced and embracing below.