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 I-ll 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.