LT 48 Bard's Requiem (A Poem)
Ambrose Silverharp Winter 1995
O Sing unto me a tragic lay
Of damsels in distress,
Of stalwart knights in gleaming mayle,
Of a milk-maids' sweet caress.
Troll me then the sanguine lament
Of young lads off to war,
Of Mothers' stricken heart,
Of Fathers' pride and Sisters' tears
All lost, amid the roar of a thousand cries
From a thousand ravaged throats, long silent,
Upon the Moor.
Chant to me in prose and verse
Of faeries within the mist,
Of secret smiles and secret tryst,
Of a Warrior's final wish.
Give unto me a soulful song
Of carnage, mayhem and fire,
Of villains foul, Of heroes true,
Who with fell Fate conspire.
A sorrowful song of boyhood friends,
Of well-loved games they played
Among the stones upon the Moor,
Of secret allies made.
Scribe me now the picture rare Of Wisdom warded by Truth
That sings to the soul a captured song
Writ upon the silken screen of torment,
Wrought by the grief-stricken cries of a widowed maid,
Tears long held in check by pride and unshakable hope,
That went, forever, unanswered.
Whisper to me a peasant's hymn
Of the land and love and life,
Of sweet young lovers in a hidden glade,
Of promises broken by strife.
Sing unto me a lullaby
Of ancient Oaks at rest,
Of elf-kin dancing in the scented heath,
Of the final sunset...
When day...Is done...