Kataryna Dragonweaver
Sung To The Tune Of The Foggy Dew
(aka Down in the Glen)
It was down in the glen
One early morn
Through merchant's row stode I
There came lines of fighting men
In armour passed me by
No pipe did hum and no battle drum
Did sing out it's loud tattoo
But the heralds cry sang loud and high
Called out in the foggy dew
Right proudly high on Clinton field hung out the flags of war
'Twas better to die 'neath an Avacal sky
Then on the banks of the great North shore
And from the plains of Avacal fame
Strong men came hurrying through
While the Northern Sons (alt: Lionsgate's Sons)
With their hired Huns
Marched in through the foggy dew
O the night fell black and our weapons crack
Made perfidious Northern reel
'Mid the battle gale, the archer's hail
Did shine over the lines of steel
By each shining blade a prayer was said
That to Avacal her sons be true
When the morning broke
Still the gryphon shook
Out its fold in the foggy dew
'Twas the prince who bade our wild geese go
That small nations might be free
And their lonely graves are in Lionsgate's waves
On the fringe of the great North sea
O when they died by The Viking's side (alt: a warlord's name)
Or fought with the households all
(alt: another unit or warlord's name)
Their names we'd keep where the warriors sleep
'Neath the shroud of the foggy dew
But the bravest fell and the requiem bell
Rang mournfully and clear,
For those who died by the water tide in the
Spring time of the year
While the world did gaze with deep amaze
At those fearless men but few
Who bore the fight that freedom's light
Might shine in through the foggy dew
Ah, back through the glen I rode again,
And my heart with grief was sore
For I parted then with the valiant men
Whom I never shall see any more
But to and fro in my dreams I go
And I'd kneel and I'd pray for you
For slavery fled, O glorious dead
When you fell in the foggy dew.