When I Am Dead, My Dearest, Sing

All Earth's Full Rivers Can Not Fillthe Sea That Drinking Thirsteth Still.

The Rose Saith In The Dewy Morn, I Am Most Fair; Yet All My Loveliness Is Born Upon A Thorn.

Fair As The Moon And Joyful As The Light; Tot Wan With Waiting, Not With Sorrow Dim; Not As She Is, But Was When Hope Shone Bright; Not As She Is, But As She Fills His Dreams.

Does The Road Wind Up-hill All The Way? Yes, To The Very End.

Why Does The Sea Moan Evermore? Shut Out From Heaven It Makes Its Moan, It Frets Against The Boundary Shore; All Earth's Full Rivers Cannot Fill The Sea, That Drinking Thirsteth Still.