Beneath this stone a broken heart:
here, hidden, in this silent place,
Low hangs brave moss this tree imparts
a shining grace
Where once my youthful boaster beamed
and I did kiss him ‘pon his mouth.
He laughed at all our broken dreams
that did go south.
But O, if I could love again
those broken dreams, remembered well:
the dream of him would be my end
for any hell.