Don't Fall, My Little Star, Keep Shining

Don't fall, my little star, keep shining, Keep dropping chilly beams of light. There is no living heart abiding Up there beyond the grave-yard site. And from you beam you bring us summer And fill the fields with rye and hay And with a thrilling wistful clamour Of cranes that haven't flown away. I raise my head and I can hear Beyond the wood across the hill A lovely song about the near And dear homeland, such a thrill! The autumn, turning gold, appears To squeeze the juice from trees and plants; It's shedding pensive leaves of tears For the beloved and loving ones. I know, I know, the time is near, Through no one's fault, with no offence, I, too, will rest in peace right here Bneath the mournful little fence. The tender flame will soon die out, My heart will turn to dust, for worse, My fiends will put a stone, no doubt. With words of merriment, in verse. But, feeling grief and seeing proper, I'd put it in the following way: He loved his homeland like a toper Adors a bar and a buffet.