I am young who sit at home-
Somber cloth and brittle bone.
Little fire in the hearth-
Little fire in my heart.

I am brave who, locked away,
Wake to face the bitter day;
See the shadows slip and fall,
See the lads stand tall, stand tall.

I am sad who, for bitterness,
Wear my finest little dress;
Dip my fingers in my tears,
Catalogue my ample fears.

L'Envoi:
Through all my petty loneliness
I prove to need you less and less.