Beneath an ancient redwood tree that towered o'er a hill

An open grave with soil scent and barren ground lay still,

An old and tender man there stood, his sorrow rising yet

Leaned o'er the grave with tears outpoured, and bitter, bitter wept,

Alas! he cried, Shall I now be the only one that speaks with thee?

Alone and weary in this world, Oh what shall now become of me?

With weary heart I take each step and tremble as with cold

I cannot go and cannot stay without you when I'm old!

Oh! my only love! Oh! my only life! Must now be when we part?

Hold there, my love, and Soon shall see what yearning Death brings over me

But though you left, and though you lie here in this cold, hard ground,

I love you still and still will live Alive and Well and Proud,

For hear I you, is this your voice come trembling through the ground?

Live on, my love, I hear you say, as if no death may drown,

Eternal love, O Grace divine! Have I a right to fear?

For still and still my love lives on, and I for her will live.