There, by the starlit fences The wanderer halts and hears My soul that lingers sighing About the glimmering weirs.
But if you ever come to a road where danger; Or guilt or anguish or shame's to share. Be good to the lad who loves you true, And the soul that was born to die for you; And whistle and I'll be there.
His folly has not fellow Beneath the blue of day That gives to man or woman His heart and soul away.
I sought them far and found them, The sure, the straight, the brave, The hearts I lost my own to, The souls I could not save They braced their belts about them, They crossed in ships the sea, They sought and found six feet of ground, And there they died for me.
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