By Master Hector of the Black Height
I heard a raven call
your name, Osis of the Livery;
The raven said he
learned it from the face in foes' dead eyes,
For many men have seen
you, and many men have fallen;
From such do some
build glory and from such some pluck their prize.
I heard the raven cry
your name;
Such is the sum of
Prince's fame.
I heard a raven call
your name, Osis the shield-hewer;
The raven learned it
in the faces staring from the list.
There fell before your
might the splendour serried from the Northlands:
With steel you caught
a crown, the same steel those red lips had kissed.
Once more I heard the
raven's cry;
So quickly do the
seasons fly.
I heard a raven call
your name, Osis, son of Michael;
The raven saw you in
the eyes of men from Carthage's shore
Amidst the fallen
foemen who now feed the fatted ravens
In distant lands,
'midst friends who followed your command to War.
Yet once again the
raven cried;
'Twas at your word so
many died.
I heard a raven call
your name, Osis, Prince of Northlands;
He learned it from the
cheers that rang about him in the air.
Your name and fame
will live far past the day you feast the raven:
Your strengths outdid
those weaknesses we are condemned to share.
Then did the raven fly
away:
Another wears your
crown this day.(copyright Arthur McLean 1991-2000)
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