Self Dies in Love
I shall roll up the carpet of life when I see,
Thy dear face again and shall cease to be
For self will be lost in that rapture, and all
The threads of my thought from my hand will fall;
Not me wilt thou find, for this self will have fled:
Thou wilt be my soul in mine own soul’s stead.
All thought of self will be swept from my mind,
And thee only thee, in my place shall I find;
More precious than heaven, than earth more dear,
Myself were forgotten if thou wert near.