Vital spark of heav'nly flame! Quit, oh quit, this mortal frame: Trembling, hoping, ling'ring, flying, Oh the pain, the bliss of dying!

The garlands fade, the vows are worn away; So dies her love, and so my hopes decay.

Hark! they whisper; angels say, Sister spirit, come away!

Let opening roses knotted oaks adorn, And liquid amber drop from every thorn.