My lover's head asleep does rest,
upon sweet cloud, my ivory breast,
his warmth of breath I no longer feel,
I hear his heart, it beats so still.

My tears anoint those lips I kissed,
he lays with me, he is not missed.
Strange, is warm, but he grows cold.
I bring him close, within my hold.

My prince does sleep, I see his smile,
such joy I give, for such short while,
my soul does mourn, It has not cried,
for he dreams long dreams. He has not died.