Whenever I think our love has reached its end
and I lose hope of seeing her again,
I must at once such thoughts dispel, or else
my soul no longer could in body dwell.
Even though the dead can never return,
before I die I shall have news of her.
She has gone, but while I live in hope of news,
is it so strange my feelings should not change?
If I could be sure she with the blessed dwells,
I would not wish that she were still alive.

Oh Lord have mercy! But I scarcely know
what now I ask: to be with her, that’s all.
Do not exclude me from that place too long;
my spirit longs for hers, to be where she is.
As for my body, before I leave this life,
upon hers let it lie in close embrace.
The wound love dealt them both can never heal;
but death can unite them, that drove apart.
Come Judgement Day, we shall return to flesh,
and each to each shall we our bodies share