She never told what she saw in the wood;
There were no words for the stench,
The floated offal, the burnt patches.
She kept the secret of the woman lying
In darkness breathing hard,
A hooked foot holding her down.
She held her peace about the man who waited
Beside the lettered slab. He sang:
I went into the alehouse and called for a drink,
The girl behind the bar could not speak for tears,
The drops of beer flowed down the sides of the glass;
She wept to think of the pierced head,
The tears Our Saviour shed.