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.