| Old fathers, great-grandfathers, |
| Rise as kindred should. |
| If ever lover’s loneliness |
| Came where you stood, |
| Pray that Heaven protect us |
| That protect your blood. |
| The mountain throws a shadow, |
| Thin is the moon’s horn; |
| What did we remember |
| Under the ragged thorn? |
| Dread has followed longing, |
| And our hearts are torn. |