“O cruel Death, give three things back,”
Sang a bone upon the shore;
“A child found all a child can lack,
Whether of pleasure or of rest,
Upon the abundance of my breast”:
A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.
“Three dear things that women know,”
Sang a bone upon the shore;
“A man if I but held him so
When my body was alive
Found all the pleasure that life gave”:
A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.
“The third thing that I think of yet,”
Sang a bone upon the shore,
“Is that morning when I met
Face to face my rightful man
And did after stretch and yawn”:
A bone wave-whitened and dried in the wind.