Ah! my love, the soldier-boy
We follow him, for a time.
When he falls, rises, falls once more,
We pause. Alight.
And watch to see
If he will rise again.
My little soldier, ever fighting on.
You may sleep, sweet soldier.
We will watch over you.
The night will come,
As will the wolves,
But if they come, my love,
I shall keep them at bay.
Their teeth will flash in the night, but I
Will swoop upon them and send them howling.
The blood glints black when the sun is gone,
Reflects the silver moon.
He has not risen.
He rasps and groans and babbles
Names and nonsense
But my love, you are not alone here in the dark night.
We are with you.
We are waiting.
When the first of morning’s light arrives,
Touches his sweet soldier face,
We ruffle our feathers,
And cry our dirge for him;
Our sweet lament
For the poor soldier on the dew-wet grass.
I taste his lips, I kiss his eyes,
How I loved him, my soldier
Could not watch him go to waste.