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A shroud around his body wrappedBelow the Earth and years and years and yearsHave passed along these lines below these fieldsBrought up to us, a body wrappedMy hands that love him greatlyThough history does not agreeWere they his bones removed upon St. Steven's Day?The moon is hidden as the cloth appearsAnd taken to the riverTake him to the EarthA hundred years, two hundred yearsThree for the sins of his handsAnd bought unto these fieldsBy a sword though no man could lay him downA fever for his troublesAnd his body to the Earth returnedBy the hands that loved him dearlyWhile his works shall never workHis thoughts shall never thinkHis eyes shall never watchHis loves shall know not loveHis loves shall know not loveHis loves shall know not loveHis loves shall know not love From Letras Mania