If I may have it when it?s dead I will contented be; If just as soon as breath is out It shall belong to me, Until they lock it in the grave, ?Tis bliss I cannot weigh, For though they lock thee in the grave, Myself can hold the key. Think of it, lover! I and thee Permitted face to face to be; After a life, a death we?ll say, - For death was that, but this is thee.