I remember the good times

Now lost like precious dimes.

I was never underfed

His bread I ate and was rightly led

The mountains mightily opposed

But he brought me farther.

His body is now decomposed

But to me was more than a Father

Vomit the good man, O grave

That he may get his reward.

Desist from swallowing the brave

For it is unjust before man and God

O his works did we despise

And his deeds unappreciated.

Ye Death, that the dead may rise

And get properly appreciated

~