The Grave of Him I Love

O how shall I warble myself for the dead one there I loved?

And how shall I deck my soul for the large sweet soul that has gone?

And what shall my perfume be for the grave of him I love?

Sea-winds blown from the east and west,

Blown from the Eastern sea and blown from the Western sea, [till there on the prairies meeting,

These and] with these and the breath of my chant,

I'll perfume the grave of him I love.