Farewell, Earl Richard, Tender and brave; Kneeling I kiss The dust from thy grave. Pray for me, Richard, Lying alone With hands pleading earnestly, All in white stone. Soon must I leave thee This sweet summer tide; That other is waiting To claim his pale bride. Soon Iíll return to thee Hopeful and brave, When the dead leaves Blow over thy grave. Then shall they find me Close at thy head Watching or fainting, Sleeping or dead.
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