Whether you believe in an afterlife or not I think you will enjoy the following extract from Wilfrid Scawen Blunt's 1897 diaries.
... to be laid out to sleep in a garden, with running water near, and so to sleep for a hundred thousand years, then to be woke by a bird singing, and to call out to the person one loved best, 'Are you there?' and for her to answer, 'Yes, are you?' and so turn round and go to sleep again for another hundred thousand years.
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