Say that the men of the old black tower, Though
they but feed as the goatherd feeds, Their
money spent, their wine gone sour, Lack
nothing that a soldier needs, That
all are oath-bound men: Those
banners come not in. There
in the tomb stand the dead upright, But
winds come up from the shore: They
shake when the winds roar, Old
bones upon the mountain shake. Those
banners come to bribe or threaten, Or
whisper that a man’s a fool Who,
when his own right king’s forgotten, Cares
what king sets up his rule. If
he died long ago Why
do you dread us so? There
in the tomb drops the faint moonlight, But
wind comes up from the shore: They
shake when the winds roar, Old
bones upon the mountain shake. The
tower’s old cook that must climb and clamber Catching
small birds in the dew of the morn When
we hale men lie stretched in slumber Swears
that he hears the king's great horn. But
he’s a lying hound: Stand
we on guard oath-bound! There
in the tomb the dark grows blacker, But
wind comes up from the shore: They
shake when the winds roar, Old bones upon the mountain shake. |
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