At dawn, tomorrow as the plains grow bright
I'll leave. I know you're waiting for me too:
I'll cross the woodland and the mountain height.
I can no longer be away from you.
With eyes fixed on my thoughts, I will go forth.
The world outside me I'll not hear or see,
Unknown, alone, hands crossed, back hunched toward earth
In grief, and day will be as night to me.
I will not see the gold of evening gloam
Nor the sails off toward Harfleur far away,
And when I come, I'll place upon your tomb
Some blooming heather and hollies in bouquet.