Whisky for my men, beer for my horses!

[TheBadElf]

I've always felt that "The Impossible Dream" should be in the PHB as an example of the Paladin's Code. Might help slow down the neverending torrent of "bad paladin" threads. Hey, aren't we about due for another one of those...

 

[Scarbonac]

There are few things that can compare to listening to the original Broadway cast recording of Man of La Mancha.

Here's one I recall from times past:

The Rising of the Moon



And come tell me Sean O'Farrell tell me why you hurry so
Husha buachaill hush and listen and his cheeks were all a glow
I bear orders from the captain get you ready quick and soon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
For the pikes must be together by the rising of the moon

And come tell me Sean O'Farrell where the gath'rin is to be
At the old spot by the river quite well known to you and me
One more word for signal token whistle out the marchin' tune
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
With your pike upon your shoulder by the rising of the moon

Out from many a mud wall cabin eyes were watching through the night
Many a manly heart was beating for the blessed warning light
Murmurs rang along the valleys to the banshees lonely croon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

By the rising of the moon, by the rising of the moon
And a thousand pikes were flashing by the rising of the moon

All along that singing river that black mass of men was seen
High above their shining weapons flew their own beloved green
Death to every foe and traitor! Whistle out the marching tune
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon

'Tis the rising of the moon, 'tis the rising of the moon
And hurrah, me boys, for freedom, 'tis the rising of the moon​

This is from Mike Oldfield (of Tubular Bells fame) and Maggie Reilly:

Moonlight Shadow

The last that ever she saw him
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
He passed on worried and warning
Carried away by a moonlight shadow.
Lost in a riddle last saturday night
Far away on the other side.
He was caught in the middle of a desperate fight
And she couldn't find how to push through

The trees that whisper in the evening
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
Sing a song of sorrow and grieving
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
All she saw was a silhouette of a gun
Far away on the other side.
He was shot six times by a man on the run
And she couldn't find how to push through

I stay
I pray
I see you in heaven far away

I stay
I pray
I see you in heaven one day

Four AM in the morning
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
I watched your vision forming
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
Stars move slowly in the silvery night
Far away on the other side
"Will you come to talk to me this night?"
But she couldn't find how to push through

I stay
I pray
I see you in heaven far away

I stay
I pray
I see you in heaven one day

Far away on the other side.

Caught in the middle of a hundred and five
The night was heavy but the air was alive
But she couldn't find how to push through

Carried away by a moonlight shadow
Carried away by a moonlight shadow
Far away on the other side.​

 

[Scarbonac]

I can't believe that this hasn't been posted (granted it's a poem, but it's nicely evocative). If I've missed it because I'm blind or stupid, forgive, forgive, I beg of you!

The Highwayman
by Alfred Noyes
Part One
I
The wind was a torrent of darkness among the gusty trees,
The moon was a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
The road was a ribbon of moonlight, over the purple moor,
And the highwayman came riding--
Riding--riding--
The highwayman came riding, up to the old inn-door.
II
He'd a French cocked-hat on his forehead, a bunch of lace at his chin,
A coat of the claret velvet, and breeches of brown doe-skin;
They fitted with never a wrinkle: his boots were up to the thigh!
And he rode with a jewelled twinkle,
His pistol butts a-twinkle,
His rapier hilt a-twinkle, under the jewelled sky.

III
Over the cobbles he clattered and clashed in the dark inn-yard,
And he tapped with his whip on the shutters, but all was locked and barred;
He whistled a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.

IV
And dark in the old inn-yard a stable-wicket creaked
Where Tim the ostler listened; his face was white and peaked;
His eyes were hollows of madness, his hair like mouldy hay,
But he loved the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's red-lipped daughter,
Dumb as a dog he listened, and he heard the robber say--

V
"One kiss, my bonny sweetheart, I'm after a prize to-night,
But I shall be back with the yellow gold before the morning light;
Yet, if they press me sharply, and harry me through the day,
Then look for me by moonlight,
Watch for me by moonlight,
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way."

VI
He rose upright in the stirrups; he scarce could reach her hand,
But she loosened her hair i' the casement! His face burnt like a brand
As the black cascade of perfume came tumbling over his breast;
And he kissed its waves in the moonlight,
(Oh, sweet black waves in the moonlight!)
Then he tugged at his rein in the moonlight, and galloped away to the West.

Part Two
I
He did not come in the dawning; he did not come at noon;
And out o' the tawny sunset, before the rise o' the moon,
When the road was a gipsy's ribbon, looping the purple moor,
A red-coat troop came marching--
Marching--marching--
King George's men came marching, up to the old inn-door.
II
They said no word to the landlord, they drank his ale instead,
But they gagged his daughter and bound her to the foot of her narrow bed;
Two of them knelt at her casement, with muskets at their side!
There was death at every window;
And hell at one dark window;
For Bess could see, through the casement, the road that he would ride.

III
They had tied her up to attention, with many a sing jest;
They bound a musket beside her, with the barrel beneath her breast!
"Now keep good watch!" and they kissed her.
She heard the dead man say--
Look for me by moonlight;
Watch for me by moonlight;
I'll come to thee by moonlight, though hell should bar the way!

IV
She twisted her hands behind her; but all the knots held good!
She writhed her hands till here fingers were wet with sweat or blood!
They stretched and strained in the darkness, and the hours crawled by like years,
Till, now, on the stroke of midnight,
Cold, on the stroke of midnight,
The tip of one finger touched it! The trigger at least was hers!

V
The tip of one finger touched it; she strove no more for the rest!
Up, she stood up to attention, with the barrel beneath her breast,
She would not risk their hearing; she would not strive again;
For the road lay bare in the moonlight;
Blank and bare in the moonlight;
And the blood of her veins in the moonlight throbbed to her love's refrain.

VI
Tlot-tlot; tlot-tlot! Had they heard it? The horse-hoofs ringing clear;
Tlot-tlot, tlot-tlot, in the distance? Were they deaf that they did not hear?
Down the ribbon of moonlight, over the brow of the hill,
The highwayman came riding,
Riding, riding!
The red-coats looked to their priming! She stood up straight and still!

VII
Tlot-tlot, in the frosty silence! Tlot-tlot, in the echoing night!
Nearer he came and nearer! Her face was like a light!
Her eyes grew wide for a moment; she drew one last deep breath,
Then her finger moved in the moonlight,
Her musket shattered the moonlight,
Shattered her breast in the moonlight and warned him--with her death.

VIII
He turned; he spurred to the West; he did not know who stood
Bowed, with her head o'er the musket, drenched with her own red blood!
Not till the dawn he heard it, his face grew grey to hear
How Bess, the landlord's daughter,
The landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Had watched for her love in the moonlight, and died in the darkness there.

IX
Back, he spurred like a madman, shrieking a curse to the sky,
With the white road smoking behind him and his rapier brandished high!
Blood-red were his spurs i' the golden noon; wine-red was his velvet coat,
When they shot him down on the highway,
Down like a dog on the highway,
And he lay in his blood on the highway, with a bunch of lace at his throat.

X
And still of a winter's night, they say, when the wind is in the trees,
When the moon is a ghostly galleon tossed upon cloudy seas,
When the road is a ribbon of moonlight over the purple moor,
A highwayman comes riding--
Riding--riding--
A highwayman comes riding, up to the old inn-door.

XI
Over the cobbles he clatters and clangs in the dark inn-yard,
And he taps with his whip on the shutters, but all is locked and barred;
He whistles a tune to the window, and who should be waiting there
But the landlord's black-eyed daughter,
Bess, the landlord's daughter,
Plaiting a dark red love-knot into her long black hair.​

 

[Berandor]

That's not only a poem, but also a song by Loreena McKennit!

 

[MaxKaladin]

I'm partial to this one, though a few words would need to be changed here and there to adapt it to a fantasy setting without guns, the title still works if you assume the "Big Iron" is a big sword.


Big Iron
Marty Robbins

To the town of Agua Fria rode a stranger one fine day
Hardly spoke to folks around him, didn't have too much to say,
No one dared to ask his business, no one dared to make a slip
The stranger there among them had a big iron on his hip,
big iron on his hip

It was early in the morning when he rode into the town
He came riding from the south side, slowly lookin' all around
"He's an outlaw loose and runnin'", came a whisper from each lip
"And he's here to do some business with a big iron on his hip,
big iron on his hip"

In this town there lived an outlaw by the name of Texas Red
Many men had tried to take him and that many men were dead
He was vicious and a killer, though a youth of twenty four
And the notches on his pistol numbered one and nineteen more,
one and nineteen more

Now the stranger started talkin' made it plain to folks around
Was an Arizonia ranger, wouldn't be too long in town
He was here to take an outlaw back alive or maybe dead
And he said it didn't matter that he was after Texas Red,
after Texas Red

Wasn't long before this story was relayed to Texas Red
But the outlaw didn't worry, men who tried before were dead
Twenty men had tried to take him, twenty men had made a slip,
Twenty one would be the ranger with the big iron on his hip,
big iron on his hip

Now the morning past so quickly and it was time for them to meet
It was twenty past eleven when they rode out in the street
Folks were watchin' from their windows,
every body held their breath,
They knew this handsome ranger was about to meet his death,
about to meet his death

There was twenty feet between them
when they stopped to make their play
And the swiftness of the Ranger still talked about today
Texas Red had not cleared leather when a bullet fairly ripped
And the ranger's aim was deadly, with the big iron on his hip,
big iron on his hip

It was over in a moment and the crowd all gathered 'round
There before them lay the body of the outlaw on the ground
Oh, he might have went on livin' but he made one fatal slip
When he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip,
big iron on his hip

Big iron, big iron,
Oh he tried to match the ranger with the big iron on his hip,
Big iron on his hip

 

[Scarbonac]

That's not only a poem, but also a song by Loreena McKennit!

Wikkid!


Now, for my next offering, one from Jimmy Dean; a quintessential tale of heroism and sacrifice:

Big Bad John

Ev'ry mornin' at the mine you could see him arrive
He stood six foot six and weighed two forty five
Kinda broad at the shoulder and narrow at the hip
And everybody knew ya didn't give no lip to Big John.
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)

Nobody seemed to know where John called home
He just drifted into town and stayed all alone
He didn't say much, kinda quiet and shy
And if you spoke at all, you just said "Hi" to Big John.

Somebody said he came from New Orleans
Where he got in a fight over a Cajun Queen
And a crashin' blow from a huge right hand
Sent a Loosiana fellow to the Promised Land-Big John
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)

Then came the day at the bottom of the mine
When a timber cracked and men started cryin'
Miners were prayin' and hearts beat fast
And everybody thought that they'd breathed their last-'cept John

Through the dust and the smoke of this man-made hell
Walked a giant of a man that the miners knew well
Grabbed a saggin' timber, gave out with a groan
And like a giant oak tree he just stood there alone-Big John
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)

And with all of his strength he gave a mighty shove
Then a miner yelled out "There's a light up above!"
And twenty men scrambled from a would-be grave
Now there's only one left down there to save-Big John

With jacks and timbers they started back down
Then came that rumble way down in the ground
And then smoke and gas belched out of that mine
Everybody knew it was the end of the line for Big John
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)

Now they never reopened that worthless pit
They just placed a marble stand in front of it
These few words are written on that stand
At the bottem of this mine lies one hell of a man Big John
(Big John, Big John) Big Bad John (Big John)​

 

[TheAuldGrump]

Mining...

Sixteen Tons

Some people say a man is made outta mud.
A poor man's made outta muscle and blood.
Muscle and blood, skin and bones;
A mind that's weak and a back that's strong.

You load sixteen tons an' what do you get?
Another day older deeper and debt.
St Peter don't you call me I cause can't go:
I owe my soul to the company store.

Well, I was born one mornin' when the sun didn't shine.
I picked up a shovel, Iwalked out to the mine.
I loaded sixteen tons of Number 9 coal,
An' the store boss said: "Well, bless my soul."

You load sixteen tons an' what do you get?
Another day older deeper and debt.
St Peter don't you call me I cause can't go:
I owe my soul to the company store.

Well, I was born one mornin', it was drizzlin' rain.
Fightin' an' trouble are my middle name.
I was raised in the canebreak by an old mama lion,
Can't no high-toned woman makes me walk the line.

You load sixteen tons an' what do you get?
Another day older deeper and debt.
St Peter don't you call me I cause can't go:
I owe my soul to the company store.

Well, if you see me comin', better step aside.
A lotta men didn't; a lotta men died.
One fist of iron, the other of steel.
If the right one don't get you, then the left one will.

You load sixteen tons an' what do you get?
Another day older deeper and debt.
St Peter don't you call me I cause can't go:
I owe my soul to the company store.

Days of '49

I’m old Dan Moore from the bummer’s shore in those good old golden days
They call me a bummer and a gin sot too, but what cares I for praise ?
I wander 'round from town to town like some kind of roving sign
And the people say, there goes Dan Moore, of the days of ’49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft’times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of ’49.

My comrades all they loved me well, a jolly saucy crew
A few hard cases I will admit though they all were brave and true
Whatever the pinch they ne'er would flinch, they never would fret or whine
Like good old bricks they stood the kicks in the days of ’49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft’times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of ’49.

There was New York Jake, the butcher boy, he was always getting tight
And every time that he’d get full he was spoiling for a fight
But jake rampaged against a knife in the hands of old Bob Pines
And over Jake they held a wake in the days of ’49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft’times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of ’49.

There was Poker Bill, one of the boys, who was always in for a game
Whether he lost or whether he won, to him it was always the same
He would ante up and draw his cards and he would you go a hatful blind
But In the game with death Bill lost his breath, in the days of ’49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft’times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of ’49.

There was Roarin' Bill from Buffalo, I never will forget
He would roar all day and he’d roar all night and I guess he’s roaring yet
He roared into a prospect hole, in a roaring bad design
And in that hole he roared out his soul, in the days of ’49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft’times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of ’49.

There was North Carolina Jess, a hard old case, Who never would repent.
Jess was never known to miss a meal, Or ever pay a cent.
But poor old Jess, like all the rest,
To death did at last resign,
And in his bloom, he went up the flume, In the days of ‘49.
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft’times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of ’49.

Of the comrades all that I’ve had, there’s none that’s left to boast
And I’m left alone in my misery like some poor wandering ghost
And I pass by from town to town, they call me a rambling sign
There goes Dan Moore, a bummer sure, in the days of ’49
In the days of old, in the days of gold
How oft’times I repine for the days of old
When we dug up the gold, in the days of ’49.

The Auld Grump

 

[Whizbang Dustyboots]

(I'm Your) Hoochie Coochie Man

by Willie Dixon, made famous by Muddy Waters



The gypsy woman told my mother
Before I was born
I got a boy child's comin'
He's gonna be a son of a gun
He gonna make pretty women's
Jump and shout
Then the world wanna know
What this all about
But you know I'm him
Everybody knows I'm him
Well you know I'm the hoochie coochie man
Everybody knows I'm him

I got a black cat bone
I got a mojo too
I got the Johnny Concheroo
I'm gonna mess with you
I'm gonna make you girls
Lead me by my hand
Then the world will know
The hoochie coochie man
But you know I'm him
Everybody knows I'm him
Oh you know I'm the hoochie coochie man
Everybody knows I'm him

On the seventh hours
On the seventh day
On the seventh month
The seven doctors say
He was born for good luck
And that you'll see
I got seven hundred dollars
Don't you mess with me
But you know I'm him
Everybody knows I'm him
Well you know I'm the hoochie coochie man
Everybody knows I'm him

That's what we call a spell-caster with panache.

 

[Scarbonac]

The eternal triangle -- A man, a woman and a roaming bard:

Gypsy Davy (Trad., popularized by tyhe legendary Woody Guthrie)


(It was late last night when the Lord came in...)

It was late last night when the boss come home
Asking 'bout his lady,
The only answer that he got,
"She's gone with the Gypsy Davey,
She's gone with the Gypsy Dave."

"Go saddle for me my buckskin horse
And hundred dollar saddle,
Point out to me their wagon tracks,
And after them I'll travel,
And after them I'll ride."

Well, he had not rode till the midnight moon
He saw the campfire gleamin'.
He heard the sound of the big guitar,
An' the voice of the gypsy singin'
That song of the Gypsy Dave.

An' there by the light of the campin' fire,
He saw her fair face beamin',
Her heart in tune to the big guitar
And the sound of the gypsy singin'
That song of the Gypsy Dave.

"Have you forsaken your house and home,
Have you forsaken your baby?
Have you forsaken your husband dear
To go with the Gypsy Davey,
To go with the Gypsy Dave? "

"Yes, I've forsaken my husband dear
To go with the Gypsy Davey.
And I've forsaken my mansion high,
But not my blue-eyed baby,
But not my blue-eyed babe."

She turned to go away from him
And go with the Gypsy Davey,
But the tears come tricklin' down her cheeks
To think of her blue-eyed baby,
To go with the blue-eyed babe.

"Take off, take off your buckskin gloves
Made of Spanish leather,
And give to me your lily white hand
To go ride home together,
And we'll ride home again. "

"I'll not take off my buckskin gloves
Made of Spanish leather,
I'll go on my way from day to day
To be with the Gypsy Davey,
To go with the Gypsy Dave,
Sing with the Gypsy Davey,
Go with the Gypsy Dave."


And a caper:


Lily, Rosemary and the Jack of Hearts (Bob Freaking Dylan)


The festival was over and the boys were all planning for a fall
The cabaret was quiet except for the drilling in the wall
The curfew had been lifted and the gambling wheel shut down
Anyone with any sense had already left town
He was standing in the doorway looking like the Jack of Hearts.

He moved across the mirrored room "Set it up for everyone" he said
Then everyone commenced to do what they were doin' before he turned their heads
Then he walked up to a stranger and he asked him with a grin
"Could you kindly tell me friend what time the show begins ?"
Then he moved into the corner face down like the Jack of Hearts.


Backstage the girls were playing five card stud by the stairs
Lily had two queens she was hoping for a third to match her pair
Outside the streets were filling up, the window was open wide
A gentle breeze was blowing, you could feel it from inside
Lily called another bet and drew up the Jack of Hearts.


Big Jim was no one's fool, he owned the town's only diamond mine
He made his usual entrance looking so dandy and so fine
With his bodyguards and silver cane and every hair in place
He took whatever he wanted to and he laid it all to waste
But his bodyguards and silver cane were no match for the Jack of Hearts.


Rosemary combed her hair and took a carriage into town
She slipped in through the side door looking like a queen without a crown
She fluttered her false eyelashes and whispered in his ear
"Sorry darling, that I'm late", but he didn't seem to hear
He was starring into space over at the Jack of Hearts.


"I know I've seen that face somewhere" Big Jim was thinking to himself
"Maybe down in Mexico or a picture up on somebodys shelf"
But then the crowd began to stamp their feet and the house lights did dim
And in the darkness of the room there was only Jim and him
Starring at the butterfly who just drew the Jack of Hearts.


Lily was a princess she was fair-skinned and precious as a child
She did whatever she had to do she had that certain flash every time she smiled
She'd come away from a broken home had lots of strange affairs
With men in every walk of life which took her everywhere
But she's never met anyone quite like the Jack of Hearts.
The hanging judge came in unnoticed and was being wined and dined
The drilling in the wall kept up but no one seemed to pay it any mind
It was known all around that Lily had Jim's ring
And nothing would ever come between Lily and the king
No nothing ever would except maybe the Jack of Hearts.


Rosemary started drinking hard and seeing her reflection in the knife
She was tired of the attention tired of playing the role of Big Jim's wife
She had done a lot of bad things even once tried suicide
Was looking to do just one good deed before she died
She was gazing to the future riding on the Jack of Hearts.


Lily took her dress off and buried it away
"Has your luck turn out" she laughed at him'.
"Well I guess you must have known it would someday
Be careful not to touch the wall there's a brand new coat of paint
I'm glad to see you're still alive you're looking like a saint"
Down the hallway footsteps were coming for the Jack of Hearts.


The backstage manager was pacing all around by his chair
"There's something funny going on" he said " I can just feel it in the air"
He went to get the hanging judge but the hanging judge was drunk
As the leading actor hurried by in the costume of a monk
There was no actor anywhere better than the Jack of Hearts.


No one knew the circumstance, but they say it happened pretty quick
The door to the dressing room burst open a cold revolver clicked
And big Jim was standing there ya couldn't say surprised
Rosemary right beside him steady in her eyes
She was with big Jim but she was leaning to the Jack of Hearts.


Two doors down the boys finally made it through the wall
And cleaned out the bank safe it's said that they got off with quite a haul
In the darkness by the riverbed they waited on the ground
For one more member who had business back in town
But they couldn't go no further without the Jack of Hearts.


The next day was hanging day the sky was overcast and black
Big Jim lay covered up killed by a penknife in the back
And Rosemary on the gallows she didn't even blink
The hanging judge was sober he hadn't had a drink
The only person on the scene missing was the Jack of Hearts.
The cabaret was empty now a sign said. "Closed for repair"
Lily had already taken all of the dye out of her hair
She was thinking about her father who she was rarely saw
Thinking about Rosemary and thinking about the law
But most of all she was thinking about the Jack of Hearts.

 

[Vargo]

Kinda morbid, but Sting has a nice one off of 10 Summoners Tales...

When we set out on this journey
There were no doubts in our minds
We set our eyes to the distance
We would find what we would find

We took courage from our numbers
What we sought, we did not fear
Sometimes we'd glimpse a shadow falling
Then the shadow would disappear

But our thoughts kept returning
To something the boy said as we turned to go
He said 'You'll never see our faces again,
You'll be food for a carrion crow'.

Every step we took today
Our thoughts would always stray
From the wind on the moor so wild
To the words of the captain's child
Something the boy said (x4)

In the circles we made with our fires
We talked of the pale afternoon
The clouds were like dark riders
Flying on the face of the moon
We spoke our fears to the captain
And asked what his son could know
For we would never have marched so far
To be food for a crow

Every step we took today
Our thoughts would always stray
From the wind on the moor so wild
To the words of the captain's child
Something the boy said (x4)

When I awoke this morning
The sun's eye was red as blood
The stench of burning corpses
Faces in the mud

Am I dead or am I living?
I'm too afraid to care, I'm too afraid to know
I'm too afraid to look behind me
At the feast of the crow

We spoke our fears to the captain
And asked what his son could know
For we would never have marched so far
To be food, for a crow
Something the boy said...