I know all this because I am dead—
I suppose the dead can know what they please!
Can I be dead? It is foolish to die,
Earth shining brighter than any bright star.
Death, do you know it is Harry and I?
Heaven is here—must I seek it afar?
Death, seize thy prey from the world-weary track;
Let not the happy by thee be remov'd;
Slowly and softly and sweetly come back,
Life that she loves to a girl that is lov'd!