Owen Innsley - Outre-Mort lyrics

Suppose the dreaded messenger of d**h Should hasten steps that seem, though sure, so slow, And soon should whisper with his chilly breath: "Arise! thine hour has sounded, thou must go; For they that earliest taste life's holiest feast Must early fast, lest, grown too bold, they dare Of them that follow after seize the share." Then, though my pulse's beat forever ceased, If where I slumbered thou shouldst chance to pa**, Though grave-bound, I thy presence should discern, Heedless of coffin-lid and tangled gra**, Upward to kiss thy feet my lips would yearn; And did one spark of love thy heart inflame, With the old rapture I should call thy name.