Chorus:
Tread softly, for she is near under the snow
Speak gently, for she can hear your daisies grow
All of her bright and golden hair was tarnished with rust
She that was young and fair has fallen to dust
Has fallen to dust
She was lily-like and white as snow
Never knew she was a woman so sweetly she grew
Yet a coffin board and a heavy stone lie upon her breast
And I vex my heart alone that she is at rest
(Chorus)
Not the tribune's voice nor the poet's pen
May sow such seeds in slavorous men
'Tis the soldier's sword alone that may reap such harvest
When they have grown, when they have grown
(Chorus)
Peace, she cannot hear a line, nor a tune, nor a song, nor a sonnet
My life is buried here, heap of earth upon it
