These summery days have lifted my heart;
This world and people did them depart.
For your company alone,
Many would bemoan.
And since it is so,
I still cry: it is a great loss that you are all gone.
Each soul that lifted mine so high above the trees
Have slipped their hold,
And now your loving souls are gone.
Some to the nothingless north,
Some to the sickly south,
And each tongue and mouth
So spread apart and out
That there is nothing left but silence
Where our words and thoughts used to loudly be.
And now what are my fallish days left with?
Just ambitious souls who care not for me,
But simply hasten to climb
As thunder rolls.