"Farewell to barn and stack and tree, <br />Farewell to Severn shore. <br />Terence, look your last at me, <br />For I come home no more. <br /> <br />"The sun burns on the half-mown hill, <br />By now the blood is dried; <br />And Maurice amongst the hay lies still <br />And my knife is in his side. <br /> <br />"My mother thinks us long away; <br />'Tis time the field were mown. <br />She had two sons at rising day, <br />To-night she'll be alone. <br /> <br />"And here's a bloody hand to shake, <br />And oh, man, here's good-bye; <br />We'll sweat no more on scythe and rake, <br />My bloody hands and I. <br /> <br />"I wish you strength to bring you pride, <br />And a love to keep you clean, <br />And I wish you luck, come Lammastide, <br />At racing on the green. <br /> <br />"Long for me the rick will wait, <br />And long will wait the fold, <br />And long will stand the empty plate, <br />And dinner will be cold."<br /><br />Alfred Edward Housman<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/farewell-to-barn-and-stack-and-tree/
