It's just a grave
Of a soldier, young and brave.
No body does it keep,
And few visit or weep.
I alone,
Sit by this stone.
And yet I know,
Though it brings me greif and woe,
It is not he,
Who lies beneath me.
There is no soul
For me to love and console.
Sadly, I must admit
With all my clever, all my wit
There is nothing here, save
This lonely old grave.