Fiddler's Farewell/I'll Be Your Epitaph
I'll be your Epitaph
Over your dear dead heart I'll liftAs blithely as a bough,Saying, "Here lies the cruel song,Cruelly quiet now."
I'll say, "Here lies the lying sword,Still dripping with my truth;Here lies the woven sheath I made,Embroidered with my youth."
I'll sing, "Here lies, here lies, here lies—"Ah, rust in peace below!Passers will wonder at my words,But your dark dust will know.