Come and rest your head upon mine,
I'll bury your woes and shelter your spine.
I've seen the troubles along your way,
Alas, it is time to let them lay.

Though your heart grows weak, your soul remains pure
If ever I grow ill, you would be my cure.
In comfort my heart reaches you still,
But in pain you chose me, instead of the pill.

In two, there is one, if one should exist,
If not, there is none, but only a mist.