Oft' have I been asked in half a breath,
Whither goest thou when night falleth?
Whither goest thou when it dawneth?
By them that know not where she lieth,
My beloved.
Cheer thine heart have I been told,
He knoweth truly what doth unfold,
In thy life, He that thine breast souled,
For it is He that repayeth hundredfold,
It is He that repayeth.
Say, how repayeth He what He taketh?
Taketh away and never again back giveth,
Say, how sees He when a sparrow falleth?
That sees not how my heart breaketh?
For my beloved.
Whither goest I? This I truly shall tell thee,
By day to her grave to wish on a banshee,
And by night to my cellar to imbibe and be,
Until such time as death shall set me free.
To be with my Beloved.