AS I lay with my head in your lap, Camerado,
The confession I made I resume--what I said to you in the open air I
A Night—there lay the Days between—
The Day that was Before—
I followed the narrow cliffside trail half way up the mountain
Above the deep river-canyon. There was a little cataract crossed the path,
Over tree roots and rocks, shaking the jeweled fern-fronds, bright bubbling
I dream'd I lay where flowers were springing
Gaily in the sunny beam;
List'ning to the wild birds singing,
By a falling crystal stream:
Ready for a kiss did sun rise,
gleaming, shimmering in the April sky,
had set to bloom bouquets of love,
a rose among them caught my eye...
Lay a garland on my hearse,
Of the dismal yew,
Maidens, willow branches bear,
Say I died true.
We're away! and the wind whistles shrewd
In our whiskers and teeth;
And the granite-like grey of the road
Seems to slide underneath.
We will lay our summer away, my friend,
So tenderly lay it away.
It was bright and sweet to the very end,
Like one long, golden day.
God lay dead in heaven;
Angels sang the hymn of the end;
Purple winds went moaning,
Their wings drip-dripping