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I cannot bear to look upon thy face
Its cold indifference would break my heart,
And drive me mad. I cannot bear to hold
Thy senseless hand, its lifeless touch is like
The hand of death. Oh! give one simple sign
Of life and love and I will rest content!

O dearest Galatea! Live for me
And I will crown thy life with priceless love.
My watchful tenderness shall soothe thy pain
And shield thee from all sorrow and distress,
My boundless love shall be thy refuge and
Thy strength and I will live to give thee joy.
If love be dead and cold within thy breast,
Mine own warm heart shall kindle it anew
Into a flame that shall transcend the skies,
And live though all things else in life shall fail.

O senseless Galatea! Thou art dead!
And yet, I swear thy soul shall come again.
Such love as mine would start the blood within
Thy pulseless breast, and call thy spirit back,
Though death had claimed it for a thousand years.
My heart shall beat in mute appeal for thee,
Each breath my lips shall cry aloud for thee,
And all my life shall be a living prayer
Unto the gods for thy deliverance;
And I will watch, and wait, and pray, till heaven

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