There'll be spring every year without you. England still will be here without you.
There'll be fruit on the tree.
And a shore by the sea.
There'll be crumpets and tea without you.
Art and music will thrive without you. Somehow Keats will survive without you.
And there still will be rain on that plain down in Spain,
even that will remain without you.
I can do without you.
You, dear friend, who taught so well,
You can go to Hartford, Hereford and Hampshire.
They can still rule with land without you.
Windsor Castle will stand without you.
And without much ado we can all muddle through without you.
Frederick Loewe