Fare-Well Poem by Martin Greyford

Hearken unto my voice
O you woman
Pay attention to thy master.

Thou art been good
Unto me
Thou hast loved me righteously.

Hearken O woman
Incline thy ear.
My heart is sore pained within me

And the terrors of death
Are fallen upon me.
I am very weary with my groaning.

All the night
Make I my bed to swim.
Mine eye is consumed of grief.

Thou art been unto me
The rose of Sharon
The lily of the valley

The apple of my eyes
O my beloved.
The day breaks and

The shadows covereth me
To slumber peacefully
Upon thy lips.

Take care of thy sons and daughters
For art been ours
Now yours forever.

Thy pure heart
Wilstead not melt
Even to the very deep of the furnace.

It belongeth to thee
And to thee,
Thy sons - daughters.

Once I'm dead
Cover me in thy bosom
Lest I be taken early to the grave.

The sepulchre should be engraved;
'Herein, lieth the body of my husband
A hero of my soul.

'Food to the worms and maggots.
Fare-well O thou art been the king
Of my heart.'

Love each other
Hatest wickedness
Unite thy family!