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Shall I never more behold thee, Dearest treasure of my breast,Never in my arms enfold thee, Never to thy lips be prest?
Yet my starting eyes are tearless, And my burning cheeks are dry;Raging frenzy makes me fearless— Whither, whither, shall I fly?
Mark! a radiant train attending, Edward mounts the vaulted sky;—See the blazing pomp ascending, Far above the stars they fly.
Stop, my child, I come to meet thee— Stop, my love, my darling boy!Keep thy sweetest smile to greet me In those realms of endless joy.
There no bloody hand shall part us, There no ruffian force I'll fear,—Angels there shall safely guard us, Hush each sigh, and dry each tear.
