Page the Second


A fronte praecipitium a tergo lupi. (In front of you, a precipice. Behind you, wolves.)

Monday, May 9, 2011

Paean for a Dying Knight

Lie ye down, Sir errant knight
Lie ye down in the tall, tall grasses
Cover ye over with May rose
As your red blood stains the meadow.

Lay ye down your war-blunt spear
Also, your notch-ed great sword
Last breath mingling with the breeze
Last sight sees the raven.

No more to see the hills of homeward
Nor to kiss thy lover's lips
Gone are the banners bright and snapping
Gone are thy marching soldiers.

Hush, let the night breeze sooth your brow
Let the pain subside, now
Follow ye on to a new frontier
Away with you into the sunlight.

1 comment:

  1. LOVE this paean, Heidi! Did you write it? You catch the images beautifully!