| When all works that have |
| From cradle run to grave |
| From grave to cradle run instead; |
| When thoughts that a fool |
| Has wound upon a spool |
| Are but loose thread, are but loose thread; |
| When cradle and spool are past |
| And I mere shade at last |
| Coagulate of stuff |
| Transparent like the wind, |
| I think that I may find |
| A faithful love, a faithful love. |