"Seek me not 'mid blooming meadows, Not there my spirit can you trace, Where workers toil like spectral shadows, 'Tis there you’ll find my resting place. Seek me not where birds are singing, Not there my spirit can you trace, A slave am I, where chains are ringing, 'Tis there you’ll find my resting place. Seek me not 'mid fountains dashing, Not there my spirit can you trace, Where tears are falling, teeth are gnashing, 'Tis there you’ll find my resting place. And love’st thou me with love’s true passion Thy steps unto my spirit trace. Bring joy with thee; in love’s true fashion Make sweet to me my resting place."