I long to hold some lady

For my love is far away,

And will not come tomorrow

And was not here today.

There is no flesh so perfect

As on my lady's bone,

And yet it seems so distant

When I am all alone:

As though she were a masterpiece

In some castled town,

That pilgrims come to visit

And priests to copy down.

Alas, I cannot travel

To a love I have so deep

Or sleep too close beside

A love I want to keep. But I long to hold some lady,

For flesh is warm and sweet.

Cold skeletons go marching

Each night beside my feet.