Farewell, young knights!
Forgive me for these solemn tears I cry.
But who would not cry for friends
Who knew the same fears,
Shared the same experiences,
Felt the same pride,
And heard the same fading echo
Of a Corps long dead.
Somehow it does not seem right
That four knights so young in years
Should feel an icy dart from Death.
And fall beneath his shade
While he pursues his timeless course.
And yet, in spite of the tears,
I know that Death's triumph
Will be short-lived.
For soon you will conquer Death
And live a life that will not end,
Filled with love and bliss,
Far greater than we who live
Below your new home
Could ever dream of.
No longer will you feel
The pains of a world dying in sin,
Or the crimes of man against man.
Your new home will be
More than a paradise to you,
With sights more beautiful
Than the golden sunset,
Sounds more sweet
Than the song of the morning bird.
And all of this, until time itself,
Is no more.
Perhaps, it is you,
Who should be crying . . . for us.