Phillips Twas a man of youthful features Twas a boy of sorrowful eyes Watching out but looking inward Tall and stately and full of life In his life he spoke but rarely In his mind he cried for light Painting perceptions trying to capture That which he saw in his questioning strife Once in Lisbon, twice in London Travelling around for all of his time Looking for and finding a goddess He took Diana to be his wife Of the children they'd begotten Two had died without knowing life And the third I know not whereof But if she lives, she will yet be kind Casey had a mark of simple value He had a star between his eyes In his hands he held an axe blade The Greek symbol of thunder and fire On a night when the heavens were crying He went down and took his blade Chopping wood to warm his hearthside The lightning came and my brother die Bring him no wine from faraway vineyards Tell him no tales of the canyon's might But wish him peace and eternal wisdom For he has died and he died in light