When Adonais fought and fell
upon Fate’s foreign field
and blood was bleeding from his wounds
upon his sword and shield.
A stranger sought to save his life,
as he lay on the Earth,
while I made merry, mocked and moved
my measured mug of mirth.
When Adonais breathed his last
that fatal day in spring,
his fierce, ferocious, former foes
all feted him as king!
While I, unweeping, would not watch
his final, fateful hour,
I pray he does not label me
his traitor in the tower!
Oh! Adonais, sorely slain
in wretched world gone wild.
Forgive me, father, for my sin,
for I was just a child!