I set out this morning Down the road alone the river Which I take there once a year My walk will take me by the shore Then inland a mile or more From the cold sea spray A small wood stands upon the hill An old house near it lies in ruin Forgotton long ago But here in the clearing Rounded up with moss and ivy Is your lonely grave At dusk I will make my way Along the lanes and though the fields To where my cottage is But before I step inside my bed I look up at the stars that we had All those years ago So here's for Uncle Pat