Boys that held him dear,
Do your weeping now,
All you loved of him lies here

Do your weeping now

Brought to earth the arrogant brow

And the withering tongue
Do your weeping now


Sing whatever songs are sung,
Wind whatever wreath
For a playmate perished young,

For a spirit who's spent in death.

Boys that held him dear,

Do your weeping now,
All you loved of him lies here
Do your weeping now.