The Standard-Bearer

 

In the passing years uncounted, a dreamer wove his tale

Upon his fine horse mounted, was girt in shining mail

Was girt in shining mail for on journeys long to roam

And never did return again to family, friends, and home.

 

The sun in all its splendor shone bright upon his shield

No words spoke of surrender, not ever would he yield

Not ever would he yield though his foes would fain him slay

And long and clear his horn did sound before he rode away.

 

His wife she wept in sorrow, and candles did she burn

To light the next tomorrow, awaiting his return

Awaiting his return alone, his son to him she bore

And then in grief herself laid down, and spoke not ever more.

 

The years went swiftly flowing, the boy a man became

And heard the wild wind blowing the whisper of his name

The whisper of his name it called, to take his horse and ride

And join the field of battle whereon his father died.

 

Through blowing snow deep-drifted, through winter into spring

The standard kept uplifted, the banner of the king

The banner of the king to bear, no spear let it strike down

But ever boldly let it wave o'er deeds of great renown.

 

For six-and-twenty summers his faithful duty kept

Then fighting countless numbers from liege and friend was swept

From liege and friend was swept and fell upon a hill of green

Yet waving proudly on the wind the standard still was seen.

 

His body then they carried, his deeds they sung and praised

On field of battle buried, a mound above him raised

A mound above him raised with his shield laid at his side--

His green grave sad upon the field where once his father died.

 

Now proudly tell his story, it well could be your own

A song of hope and glory, a name the wind has known

A name the wind has known and called, if you your oaths uphold

With courage and with honor, and let your heart be bold.

 

 

 

 

Copyright 2005 by Hilla Hamasdohtor (Pamela A. Wolff)