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Message: <blockquote data-quote="TheBadElf" data-source="post: 2082426" data-attributes="member: 14037">My favorite would be "The Witch of the Westmerland", either the Stan Rogers or Archie Fisher version... THE WITCH OF THE WESTMERLAND                            -Archie FisherPale was the wounded Knight who bore the rowan shieldLoud and cruel were the raven's cries that feasted on the field,saying "Brack water cold and clear will never heal your wounds.There's none but the Witch of the Westmerland to make thee hale &sound.""So turn, turn your stallion's head 'til his red mane flies in the wind,And the Rider of the Moon pass by and the Bright Star falls behind.”Clear was the paley moon when his shadow passed him byBelow the hills were the Brightest Star when he heard the owlet cry.Saying, "Why do you ride this way, and wherefore came you here?""I seek the Witch of the Westmerland that dwells by the winding mere."And it's weary by the Ullswater, and the misty brakefern way,till through the cleft of the Kirkstane Pass the winding water lay."Oh lie down, my brindled hound, and rest ye, my good grey hawk,And thee my steed may graze thy fill, for I must dismount and walk.But come when you hear my horn and answer swift the call,For I fear 'ere the sun does rise this morn you will serve me best ofall.And it's down to the water's side he's born the rowan shieldAnd the goldenrod he has cast in to seek what the lake might yield.Then wet rose she from the lake, and fast and fleet went she,One half the form of a maiden fair, with a jet black mare's body!Then loud, long, and shrill he blew, til his steed was by his side,Overhead the grey hawk flew, and swiftly he did ride,saying, "Course well, my brindled hound, and catch me the jet-blackmare,Stoop and strike my good grey hawk, and bring me the maiden fair!"She said, "Pray, sheathe thy silvery sword, lay down thy rowan shield,For I see by the briny blood that flows you've been wounded on thefield."She stood in a gown of the velvet fine, bound round with a silver chain,And she's kissed his pale lips once and twice, and three times 'roundagain.She's bound his wounds with the goldenrod; full fast in her arms he'slain.And he has risen hale and sound with the sun high in the day.She said, "Ride with your brindled hound at heel, and your good greyhawk in hand,There's none can harm the Knight that's lain with the Witch of theWestmerland!"Or, for those times when nothing but revenge will do... "The Temper of Revenge" , by Julia EcklarWe were sworn to protect a timeless land, Our steel pledged to greater goals, Meant to serve what our Lords deemed as good, Part of a greater whole. We swore Lords a pledge with breath and tongue, A pledge I now break with my heart. Those beliefs impede what I'm called now to do, My allegiance is sundered apart. My soul was torn from me this day, Half of me lies interned in his grave. That shattered life I can never retrieve, No well-meaning wizard can save!       So find me a horse as red as the sun,       Find me a blade that will make their blood run!       I will ride out at dawn, while the sun's in the sky,       So the buzzards can see where the bodies will lie!       Bring me my lance! Bring my shield!       Strong as my sword is the vengeance I wield.       "To seek vengeance is wrong," claim my masterful Lords,       But Vengeance has tempered my sword,               yes, vengeance has tempered my sword... My companion was made to be half of me, We were sealed in both body and soul. What is life to a human alone? How can one unpartnered be whole? He was slaughtered at night -- not a warrior's death... All Good now seems useless and vile, For Good let my fragile world be destroyed, My oaths by such lies were defiled. Forgive me, my Lords, for what I do. Know that this sinner is suffering too... But your virtues pure don't allow what I plan, And by God, I'll pay killers their due!       So find me a horse as red as the sun,       Find me a blade that will make their blood run!       I will ride out at dawn, while the sun's in the sky,       So the buzzards can see where the bodies will lie!       Bring me my lance! Bring my shield!       Strong as my sword is the vengeance I wield.       "To seek vengeance is wrong," claim my masterful Lords,       But Vengeance has tempered my sword,       yes, vengeance has tempered my sword... And, finally, the best war song ever..."March of Cambredth" by Heather AlexanderAxes flash, broadsword swing,Shining armour's piercing ringHorses run with polished shield,Fight Those Bastards till They YieldMidnight mare and blood red roan,Fight to Keep this Land Your OwnSound the horn and call the cry,How Many of Them Can We Make Die!Follow orders as you're told,Make Their Yellow Blood Run ColdFight until you die or drop,A Force Like Ours is Hard to StopClose your mind to stress and pain,Fight till You're No Longer SaneLet not one damn cur pass by,How Many of Them Can We Make Die!Guard your women and children well,Send These Bastards Back to HellWe'll teach them the ways of war,They Won't Come Here Any MoreUse your shield and use your head,Fight till Every One is DeadRaise the flag up to the sky,How Many of Them Can We Make Die!Dawn has broke, the time has come,Move Your Feet to a Marching DrumWe'll win the war and pay the toll,We'll Fight as One in Heart and SoulMidnight mare and blood red roan,Fight to Keep this Land Your OwnSound the horn and call the cry,How Many of Them Can We Make Die!REPEAT FIRST VERSE</blockquote>

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