Wake me in the spring,
When winter has moved along;
A touch of your warm hand,
And I will break out in song.
My sleep will unknot my brow,
And soothe my tired heart;
I will dream of your soft beauty,
And that we never came to part.
But if the world should find me
Still asleep under summer’s sky,
Then know no kiss can wake me,
For I have lain down to die.