�Twas Ev�n and dusk�s dying light
did cast it�s shadow toward the night
to hide days deeds and shun the fear
as battle raging sounds drew near.
Fog wrapping round them like a cloak
hid from men�s eyes the gentle folk
The daughters of the King of Light
did share their vigil with the night.
As battle raged from door to door
Four Sisters stood upon the shore
awaiting death they knew would come
they stood together now as one.
The King they cherished now was dead
slain as he sheltered those afraid
Their mother gone, her gentle light
could not compete with battle�s might.
They stood apart, yet stood as one
the Druid King sang in their blood
right hand faced up, left hand faced down
honor bound by thorn and crown.
They swore that neither death nor time
could keep them from each other�s side
FOUR EVER ONE, FOREVER ONE
They chanted in the dying sun.
Soul to soul, and hand in hand
honor bound by love and land
They said goodbye to their fair Isle
as through the fog the Guardian smiled
Held out his hand, and drew them through
the misty air no mortal knew
someday to meet again as Four
once more together on the shore���
by Fiona McKimmy
'Greetings traveler. Let me entertain you with a song.
Now you all know the bards and their songs
When hours have gone by, I'll close my eyes
In a world far away, we may meet again
But now hear my song, about the dawn of the night
Let's sing the bards' song.
Tomorrow will take us away, far from Home
No one will ever know our names, but the bards' songs will remain
Tomorrow will take it away, the fear of today
It will be gone, Due to our magic songs.
There's only one song, left in my mind
Tales of a brave man, who lived far from here.
Now the bard songs are over and it's time to leave
No one should ask you for the name of the one who tells the story
Tomorrow will take us away, far from home.
No one will ever know our names, but the bards' songs will remain
And you�re not alone, so don't be afraid.
In my thoughts and in my dreams, they're always in my mind
These songs of hobbits, dwarves and men and elves
Come close your eyes, You can see them, too.'
Song by Blind Guardian
The Erl-King
Wolfgang Von Goethe
O who rides by night thro' the woodland so wild?
It is the fond father embracing his child;
And close the boy nestles within his loved arm,
To hold himself fast, and to keep himself warm.
"O father, see yonder! see yonder!" he says;
"My boy, upon what dost thou fearfully gaze?"
"O, 'tis the Erl-King with his crown and his shroud."
"No, my son, it is but a dark wreath of the cloud."
The Erl-King Speaks:
"O come and go with me, thou loveliest child;
By many a gay sport shall thy time be beguil'd;
My mother keeps for the full many a fair toy,
And many a fine flower shall she pluck for my boy."
"O father, my father, and did you not hear
The Erl-King whisper so low in my ear?"
"Be still, my heart's darling -- my child, be at ease;
It was but the wild blast as it sung thro' the trees."
Erl-King:
O wilt thou go with me, thou loveliest boy?
My daughter shall tend thee with care and with joy;
She shall bear thee so lightly thro' wet and thro' wild,
And press thee, and kiss thee, and sing to my child."
"O father, my father, and saw you not plain
The Erl-King's pale daughter glide past thro' the rain?"
"O yes, my loved treasure, I knew it full soon:
It was the grey willow that danced to the moon."
Erl-King:
"O come and go with me, no longer delay,
Or else, silly child, I will drag thee away."
"O father! O father! now, now keep your hold,
The Erl-King has seized me -- his grasp is so cold!"
Sore trembled the father; he spurr'd thro' the wild,
Clasping close to his bosom his shuddering child;
He reaches his dwelling in doubt and in dread,
But, clasp'd to his bosom, the infant was dead.
�
Dance With Me
A knight he rode his lonely way
Thinking about his wedding day
As he rode through a forest near
The elf king's daughter did appear
Out she stepped from the elfin band
Smiling she held out her hand
Welcome sir knight, why such speed?
Come with me the dance to lead
Chorus: Dance, dance, follow me
Round and round the Greenwood tree
Dance, dance, while you may
Tomorrow is your dying day
Dance with me, dance with me
Listen sir knight come dance with me,
Spurs of gold I'll give to thee
Dance neither I will give nor may
Tomorrow is my wedding day
Please sir knight come dance with me
A shirt of silk I'll give to thee
A shirt of silk so white and fine
My mother has bleached in the moon-beams shine
Chorus
Please sir knight come dance with me
A crown of gold I'll give to thee
Your crown of gold I'll freely take
But I'll not join your elfin wake
Do you refuse to dance with me
A plague of death shall follow thee
Between his shoulders a blow she dealt
Such a blow he'd never felt
Chorus
Song of Taliesen
13th Century Translation of 6th Century Welsh Bard
I have been a wave on
the ocean
And I have been a fish
therein
I was cast away, and
found again.
I was brought by the 9th
wave
On the shore of the Land
And the sack could not
hold me.
I have ridden beneath
two ravens
And served in the kitchen
And all places are alike
unto me!
Who can tell the Tale of
Arthur?
Who knows the hidden
tales of Arfon?
Who tells of Weyland, or
of Gwynhwyfar?
Who shall tell the tales?
Who shall remember the
stories?
I have been in Caer Sidi
In the Spiral Castle of
Glass
And the letters on the
standing stones
Are no secret from me.
I have searched the
Castle of Glass
And the stys of Annwyn
I have asked of the Wise
And of the Foolish.
I go where I will, for who
shall gainsay me?
Who knows the End
Of the Spiral Dance?
And Who knows the
Beginning?
I have been the narrow
blade of a sword
That kills without cutting
And the Void is my
homeland.
I have passed through Fire,
Water, Earth and Air
And looked upon Chaos
and Order;
All places are alike unto
me!
I have been made of
flowers
And of cold steel and
brass
Fire and ice are alike
unto me.
I have loved a Maiden of
Flowers
And been husband to the
Mother of All
And I have bedded the
Morrigan ...
And lived to sing of it.
Who knows the heart
And secret thoughts of
Annwyn?
I have been in Annwyn
And Tir na n'Og
I have danced the Spiral
Dance
And drunk from the
Hierlas at daybreak.
I am brother to Dragons,
companion of Owls;
And I know the Secret
Name of the Cat.
I am the Oak tree, strong
to the storm,
And I am the grass
growing in the cracks,
bending to every breeze.
I am the lovers' whisper,
in the deeps of love
And I am the shout of the
captains on the
battlefield.
I am the Song of the
Birds
And the endless murmur
of the mountain stream.
Many names have I, but
only one Nature;
I am the Singer, and the
Song,
And I hold Three Things
in trust.
The words of the scholars
are clear to me
And the secrets of the
Ollamhs
I invoke the blessings of
the Inspirer of Wisdom,
And the Maker of Poets.
I am the Lapwing: I
disguise the Secret!
I am the Roebuck: I hide
the Secret!
I am the Hound with Red
Ears: I guard the Secret! I am but a Fool;
It is but my Nature.
I AM! I WAS! I WILL
BE!
I have been a wave on the
ocean
And I have been a fish
therein
I was cast away, and
found again.
Many things am I; many
things know I;
But no man knows the
Grave of Arthur.
Roads go ever on
Roads go ever ever on,
Over rock and under tree
By caves where never sun has shone,
By streams that never find the sea;
Over snow by winter sown,
And through the merry flowers of June,
Over grass and over stone,
And under mountains in the moon.
Roads go ever ever on,
Under cloud and under star,
Yet feet that wandering have gone
Turn at last to home afar.
Eyes that fire and sword have seen
And horror in the halls of stone
Look at last on meadows green
And trees and hills they long have known.
--Bilbo, at the end of The Hobbit
Burden of the Crown
� Derek Foster
The battlefield is silent, the shadows growing long.
Though I may view the sunset, I'll not live to see the dawn.
The trees have ceased to rustle, the birds no longer sing.
All nature seems to wonder at the passing of a King.
And now you stand before me, your father's flesh and blood,
Begotten of my sinews on the woman that I loved.
So difficult the birthing, thy mother died that day,
And now you stand before me, to bear my crown away.
The hour is fast approaching when you come into your own,
When you take the ring and scepter and sit upon the throne.
Before that fatal hour, when we each must meet our fate,
Pray, gaze upon the royal crown, and marvel at its weight.
This cap of burnished metal is the symbol of a land,
Supporting all we cherish, the dreams for which we stand.
The weight, you'll find, is nothing, if you hold it in your palm.
The burden of the Crown begins the day you put it on.
See how the jewels sparkle, as you gaze on it again.
Each facet is a subject, whose rights you must defend.
Every point of light a burden you must shoulder with your own.
And mighty is the burden of the man upon the throne.
The day is nearly ended, my limbs are growing cold.
I feel the angels waiting to receive my passing soul.
Keep well for me my kingdom when my memory is dead,
And forgive me for the burden I place upon your head.
Dark and Stormy Night
� Mercedes Lackey
'Twas a dark and stormy night, or so the heralds say.
The lightning striking constantly transformed the night to day.
The thunder roared the castle round, or thusly runs the tale
And, rising from the Northeast tower, there came a fearful wail.
'Twas no beast nor banshee, that the castle folk knew well.
Nor prisoner in agony, nor demon trapped by spell.
No ghost that moaned in penance nor a soul in mortal fright.
'Twas just the Countess singing, for she practiced every night.
The Countess was convinced that she should have been born a Bard,
And thus she made the lives of those within her power hard.
For they must listen to her sing, and smile at what they heard;
And swear she had a golden voice, to rival any bird.
The Countess was convinced that she had wedded 'neath her state,
And so the worst lot fell upon her meek and mild mate.
Not only must the Count each night. endure her every song,
But suffer silent her abuse, be blamed for every wrong.
'Twas a dark and stormy night, or so the Bards concur,
And so perhaps that was the reason why there was no stir
When suddenly the music ceased--and when dawn raised its head,
Within the tower servants found the Countess stiff and dead.
The Heralds came at once to judge if there had been foul play,
And questioned all most carefully, to hear what they might say,
And one fact most surprisingly, quickly acme to light;
That every movement of the Count, was vouched for on that night.
The castle folk, by ones and twos, came forward on their own
To swear the Count that night had never once been all alone;
And though the tower had been locked tight, with two keys to the door:
One his, One hers.....The Count was plain absolved of guilt for sure.
At length the Heralds then proclaimed her death a suicide,
And all within the district voiced themselves quite satisfied.
'Twas a verdict, after all, that none cared to refute,
Though... no one could imagine why... she tried to eat her lute!!
Gilda and the Dragon
� Cynthia McQuillin
Sir Loren undertook a quest, the maiden Gilda seeking
He found her in a dragon's bed from 'neath the covers peeking.
"What seek you here, Sir Loren, dear?" the dragon asked with guile.
The noble knight could not but note the dragon's sated smile.
"Why smilest thou, Lord Dragon, sir?" asked our hero in armor laden.
"Why you'd smile too," the wyrm replied, "if you'd just eaten a maiden."
"Such candor," this young lordling cried, "must touch upon dishonor!"
The dragon grinned his lecherous grin, and once more was upon her.
"Cease and desist!" Sir Loren cried, his fine steel blade a'flashin'.
"O, slay him not!" Young Gilda cried, her voice a play of passion.
"Was ever a maid so tried as I betwixt desire and honor?
I should demand you slay the beast, but he stirs in me such ardor."
"Fie, fie!" Sir Loren cried to her. "What foolishness is this?
Would you deny your lord and land all for a dragon's kiss?"
Intently he did search her face, then frowned in deep dismay
As she shed a tear for honor's sake, and then sent him away.
"Why smilest thou, Lord Dragon, sir?" asked our hero in armor laden.
"Why'd you smile too," the wyrm replied, "if you'd just eaten a maiden."
The Final Spell
� Derek Foster
The dying rays of a blood-red sun shone bright on a scene from hell:
The broken harness and scattered dead of a battle grim and fell.
In a forest glade two figures stood, their countenances proud.
One was a sorceress of ill will; the other a man of God.
The man of God cried to his foe, "Surrender while you may!
You shall not flee, for by my faith, my sword will bar your way."
Said the sorceress in a voice of ice, "You bleed from a dozen wounds,
And it takes no skill of mine to see you'll be a dead man soon."
She raised her hands in a burst of fire. The lightning crashed and groaned.
The priest stood still and from him flared a magic of his own.
The two stood locked in a war of will, of sorcery and power,
Till the man of God felt his blood run cold -- he would not live the hour.
The sorceress' laugh rang loud and shrill. "Now, priest, prepare to die!"
But a grim smile played on his ashen lips, for he'd one spell left to try.
His father's sword he lifted high. He prayed and made his cast,
Then bowed his head to the bloody field and breathed his earthly last.
The sorceress stood in the darkened glade and never spoke a word,
And the searchers found her clay-cold corpse transfixed by the dead man's sword!
The Cruel Sister
There lived a lady by the North Sea Shore
(Lay the bend to the bonnie broom)
Two daughters were the babes she bore
(Fa la la la la la la la)
As one grew bright as is the sun
So coal black grew the elder one.
A knight came riding to the lady's door
He'd traveled far to be the wooer.
He courted one with gloves and rings,
But he loved the younger above all things.
'Oh, Sister, come go with me
To watch the ships sail on the sea.'
She took her sister by the hand
And led her down to the North Sea strand
And as they stood on the windy shore,
The dark girl threw her sister o'er
Sometimes she sank, sometimes she swam
Crying, 'O, Sister, reach to me your hand
'O, Sister, Sister, let me life
And all that's mine I'll surely give.'
'It's your own truelove that I'll have and more
But thou shalt never come ashore.'
And there she floated like a swan.
The salt sea bore her body on.
Two minstrels walked along the strand
And saw the maiden float to land.
They made a harp of her breast bone
Whose sound would melt a heart of stone.
They took three locks of her yellow hair
And with them strung the harp so rare.
They went into her father's hall
To play the harp before them all.
The first string sang a doleful sound.
'The bride her younger sister drowned.'
The second string as that they tried,
'In terror sits the black-haired bride.'
The third string sang beneath their bow,
'And surely now her tears will flow.'
Silent Piper Upon High Craig
by Nian AhRee
Look ye, the lone piper who stands on rocky cliff,
His fingers be still, no drones' insistent wail,
How sae his silent feet can be seen tae tap out
A heart's mournful beatin' that hae nae yet failed.
Yet fore'er stands he upon the craig's high brow
Hot burning eyes a silent world to see
But finding her n'er upon rocky strand;
Nae more sweet glances tae her lover casts she.
Who knows this wee woman for whom pines he?
And tis her lovely face with bright gifts possess'd?
Aye, and his loving heart of fire still burns there
For once this glowing love his pipes' song caressed.
A bethrothal he made, laws were due spoken
But love ne'er he knew �til her soul he came near.
Alone, and cast out the croft she did tend
Her med'cines and herbs, a healer and seer.
Oft did they meet in the shadowy copses
Where a burn flow'd by and love all enclosed them
Sweet was the music that poured from his soul,
All earth caught fire, soon joined their joyful hymn.
Alas! the sweet refrain drowned in anger's cries;
The glen couldna hold the strains o' their loving,
The truth lay bare on a mattress of herbs.
Swift judgment came there, with nae need o' proving.
A righteous man was he, with value tae clan;
His pipes a clear calling for the kings tae war
Woman �twas she, the cruel tongues wagged against her
The faggots were gathered, flames were made to soar.
Not a word from their lips the lovers e'er spoke.
Stoney hearts envy closing, love's cry did drowned
But its music was saved; hid deep in his heart;
�Til the last he did see her face with flames crowned.
O'er the roar o' the burning their minds did meet,
They pledged their love 'til again their souls mingled,
And silence he vowed lest her sweet voice was heard,
Nae more music he'd play, nor passion's hot tingle.
Ash cold as morn his loving hands gathered,
And he took her to the sea's cold waves embrace
Vowed nae tears' escape from his o�er flowing eyes
Laid her down at water's edge and marked her place.
The tide was e'er faithful and bore her away;
He stood long on shore, his eyes straining for her
�Til the light from the moon took her from his sight.
Long did he kneel there �til the sunrise come o'er.
Sae empty the glen and more empty his heart
Her bonnie hearth is cold and nae herbs be strung,
To wait for her hand the croft door still watches
Night �tis blacker now, and her footsteps n'er come.
Tales wild and wicked raged and stole her from him,
And law's vow broken, his love couldna hide her,
Nor all his laments the stone hearts unmelt'd.
Torn from his arms, a cruel judgment to stand there.
N'er comes he tae their glen, where empty hearth stands;
But mourns the sooty ash flung out tae wild seas,
The lilt o' his music be gone forever more,
And the pipes dae nae ring, til her face he sees.
His people he abandoned, their fates he scorned.
The fiery cross did burn, but nae pipes did call;
The king's men came not and to the sword all came;
Nae soldier touched his person, fear o'er came all.
Now yonder does he stand his face toward the sea.
Long ago did he die, his bones became dust,
And washed o'er the cliff to join with her ashes.
Yet still ye can see him! Believe in love's trust!
Someday ye may hear in the wind's cold blasting,
His pipes all unfurled and the sound of her voice
Singing with the wail of lovers' cherished pipes.
Cruel fate did once split them, but gave them this choice,
to love throughout the ages, to ne'er feel it dim,
Their own embrace in the rolling sea waves.
His pipes he surrendered, her life did she give;
Their love, pure and tender, �twas thus forever saved.
Druids
The forest dryads will sing their songs
As small moon fey travel on Moon's silvery threads
North Winds blow in serene peace
And the Earth lends its magicks to us -
The Druids.
Lost Memories
With the Winds comes the morning dove,
On the Summers warm Fire doth the Phoenix fly,
With the Falls' setting Moon sprits song can be heard,
On Springs Tides the Lost Kingdom doth arise.
