Chapter VII

When I am dead and I am quite forgot,
What care I if my spirit lives or dies?
To walk with angels in a grassy plot,
And pluck the lilies grown in Paradise?

Ah, no! the heaven of all my heart has been
To hear your voice and catch the sighs between.
Ah, no! the better heaven I fain would give,
But in a cranny of your soul to live.