I'd tell you, darling, if I were dead
And your hot tears on my cheeks shed,
I'd speak, though the angel of death had laid
His sword on my lips, their accents to shade.
Not in vain should you, with streaming eyes,
Beg to know Death's chief surprise.
Oh, foolish world! Oh, precious dead!
Tho' you tell me, who will believe 'twas said?
Who will believe I heard you say
In your own dear, kind familiar way:
"I can speak now—you listen with soul alone:
To the eyes of your soul all shall be shown.
In this land of infinite bliss
The utmost wonder, dear one, is this:
"I see and love and kiss you again;
I smile at your triumph over pain;
I know your heart is honest and true;
I'm a guardian angel to you!
"What a strange, delicious amusement is death!
To live without being, to breathe without breath!