T'was a man of youthful featuresnT'was a boy of sorrowful eyesnWatching out by looking inwardnTall and stately and full of lifennIn his life, he spoke but rarelynIn his mind he cried for lightnPainting perceptions trying to capturenThat which he saw in his questioning strifennOnce in Lisbon, twice in LondonnTraveling around for all of his timenLooking for and finding a goddessnHe took Diana to be his wifennOf the children, they'd begottennTwo had died without knowing lifenAnd the third I know not whereofnBut if she lives, she will yet be kindnnCasey had a mark of simple valuenHe had a star between his eyesnIn his hands he held an axe bladenThe Greek symbol of thunder and firennOn a night when the heavens were cryingnHe went out and took his bladenChopping wood to warm his heart sidenThe lightning came and my brother diednnBring him no wine from faraway vineyardsnTell him no tales of the canyon's mightnBut wish him peace and eternal wisdomnFor he has died and he died by light