A joyful cry from the dark.
As I walked through a cloud of smoke today,
surrounded by my sadness and my tears,
a mem'ry came, unannounced, to my brain
as many before itself: I saw you.
I saw that smile that o'ertakes you with pride.
You had to have done it, I realized.
The toil is finished; the suffering done.
Honour is your name today, beloved.
You may not believe it, but I'm happy.
This double scotch I drink to your good health.
I drink to all the days and all the nights
you spent devoted to your hard labours.
And, oh, how you worked! How you deserve this!
But all I have for you, love, is verses...
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