rest my rust, for thou contained for years,
contained my breaths for long,
thou held my wrists, and soul along,
whilst brace'd my blood and tears,
clinking-clanking, at my feet,
in days of hunger n' thirst,
for thou sang me in wry heat,
of Mays, and in cold of a frost.
how canst I leave thy merry song,
leave our memories long?
dost thou not know a naught,
how we lived and died along?