Now I am dead you sing to me

   The songs we used to know,

But while I lived you had no wish

   Or care for doing so.

Now I am dead you come to me

   In the moonlight, comfortless;

Ah, what would I have given alive

   To win such tenderness!

When you are dead, and stand to me

   Not differenced, as now,

But like again, will you be cold

   As when we lived, or how?