Dirge

Boys that held him dear

Do your weeping now

All you loved of him lies here

Do your weeping now

Brought to the earth

The arrogant brow

And the withering tongue

Do your weeping now

Sing whatever songs are sung

Wind whatever wreath

For a playmate perished young

For a spirit who's spent in death

Boys that held him dear

Do your weeping now

All you loved of him lies here

Do your weeping now

Do