Short Staying

Many are the jewels in my lady's crown

Many are we subjects lined up as she is cast down

And I, a faithless unbeliever, surprise myself to cry

To find my lady fallen here, this bright morning

I call out to her mother, I call out to her love

I call out to her father to come and take her on

And all the ladies gone before, whose names I do not know

But who bore my mother's brave and sweet, old bright mornings

Go on, goodbye

Go on, goodbye

We are of this world, short staying

We are of this world, long gone

That I should write so sad a song

For my lady, who so loved to laugh

The blue and white, the rising sun

This bright morning