Old fathers， great-grandfathers，

    Rise as kindred should.

    If ever lover‘s loneliness

    Came where you stood，

    Pray that Heaven protect us

    That protect your blood.

    The mountain throws a shadow，

    Thin is the moon‘s horn；

    What did we remember

    Under the ragged thorn？

    Dread has followed longing，

    And our hearts are torn.