| When I meet the morning beam
|
| Or lay me down at night to dream
|
| I hear my bones within me say
|
| Another night, another day
|
| The man of flesh and soul be slain
|
| And the man of bone remain
|
| These today are proud in power
|
| And lord it in their little hour
|
| The immortal bones obey control
|
| Of dying flesh and dying soul
|
| The immortal bones obey control
|
| Of dying flesh and dying soul
|
| 'This long till eve and morn are gone
|
| Slow the endless night comes on And late to fullness growns the birth
|
| That shall last as long as earth
|
| These today are proud in power
|
| And lord it in their little hour
|
| The immortal bones obey control
|
| Of dying flesh and dying soul
|
| These today are proud in power
|
| And lord it in their little hour
|
| The immortal bones obey control
|
| Of dying flesh and dying soul
|
| Wanderers eastward, wanderers west,
|
| Know you why you cannot rest
|
| 'Tis that every mother’s son
|
| Travails with a skeleton
|
| When shall this slough of sense be cast,
|
| This dust of thoughts be laid at last
|
| Bring the eternal seed to light
|
| And morn is all the same as night
|
| Rest you so from trouble sore,
|
| Fear the heat o' the son no more
|
| Nor the snowing winter wild
|
| Now you labour not with child
|
| Empty vessel, garment cast
|
| We that wore you long shall last
|
| Another night, another day
|
| So my bones within me say |