14. Cortège

FOUR o’clock this afternoon,

Fifteen hundred miles away:

So it goes, the crazy tune,

So it pounds and hums all day

Four o’clock this afternoon,

Earth will hide them far away:

Best they go to go so soon,

Best for them the grave to-day.

Had she gone but half so soon,

Half the world had passed away.

Four o’clock this afternoon,

Best for them they go to-day.

Four o’clock this afternoon

Love will hide them deep, they say;

Love that made the grave so soon,

Fifteen hundred miles away.

Four o’clock this afternoon—

Ah, but they go slow to-day:

Slow to suit my crazy tune,

Past the need of all we say.

Best it came to come so soon,

Best for them they go to-day:

Four o’clock this afternoon,

Fifteen hundred miles away.