The loves that meet in Paradise shall cast out fear, And Paradise hath room for you and me and all.
Remember me when I am gone away, gone far away into the silent land.
Tread softly! All the earth is holy ground.
We must not look at goblin men, We must not buy their fruits: Who knows upon what soil they fed Their hungry thirsty roots?
Does the road wind up-hill all the way? Yes, to the very end.
Yet come to me in dreams, that I may live My very life again though cold in death; Come back to me in dreams, that I may give Pulse for pulse, breath for breath: Speak low, lean low, As long ago, my love, how long ago