[They saw him walking in the meadow]

They saw him walking in the meadow

In May he stood beneath the willow

In June he lay among the yarrow

Pollen gilding him with yellow

            Yellow crowning him with grace.

He lay there till the grass grew high

He lay there till the stars turned blue

He lay there till his breath ran cold

            The boy without a face.

Between the shining silver trees

He waited for the world to freeze

And ice to form upon the breeze

And snow to lie upon the lease

            Leaving its white grace.

And then he breathed his last blue breath

And left it in the shining air

And left his stiffened body there

            The boy without a face.

His only keepers were the fox,

Crouching in the purple phlox,

The hare whose eyes at equinox

Eyed the slowly roving ox

            Bellowing his song of grace.

Briers grew about his head

Campions covered his outspread hair

And mildew took the place of tears

            The boy without a face.

July came, and the woods grew pretty

Local people left the city

Moved by long forgotten pity

For their lovely Prince Dmitry

            Who had crowned their lives with grace.

They came with cakes, they came with flowers

They came to strew his grave with boughs

But in the darkening hour they saw

            The boy without a face.