Finis Coronat Opus

Across the sea, where sunlight dwells In lands now hid by rocky fells, Where tales of old speak of the days Fair ships of gold, in vast array Set forth, the world to see. Upon the crests of foaming wave The sails of crimson tossed and played, And rays of sun upon the beams Of fairest timber ever seen Sparkled like a gem. Far distant coasts of foreign lands, Where shadows hid and dark streams ran, Where ancient houses strong had been, Before the sea rose up again, So saw explorers bold. And so they sailed for countless years, And hardly word did ever hear The western lands beneath the sun Of where had gone, what had become Of ships upon the deep. Some say they found the hidden realms That lesser men would overwhelm; Some tell of paths beyond the sky, Where faery folk the roads belie Beneath the silver moon. But such a fate their doom may be That ever thus they sail the sea, The call of gulls upon their ears And stars to mark the passing years, And never west return.

I n graveyard lonely, grey, and still, Beneath the winter’s chill, There lies entombed a man of old Of whom the bravest tales were told In generations gone. In life, he gallant soldier was, Like knight of ages past, Whose sword was raised in battle grim And drew his weary men to him To fight, and win the day. This man, who sleeps beneath the sod, Who fought for love of God, Defended right when all was lost And steadfast stood, no matter cost, Forgot should never be. When brave men fall, and rest in earth, And living turn to mirth, Forgetting whence their freedom came, Ignoring faith, and shunning pain, Their doom shall swiftly fall.

Hidden deep in castle old, Ivy covered, clad in mold, Kept for cen’tries from the light Of harshest beams of bright sunlight, Shelf on shelf of books, whose tales  Of valor splendid, ancient vales, Of kingdoms long since past and gone, Lie forgotten, hid from sun. So precious are these stories great, That ‘scaped their fellows’ aging fate And live now on, though other lays Have not been heard for years of days; But if they hidden so have been, What good are they to mortal men Who grasp and yearn for noble deeds, And seek the path that to them leads?

Summer’s time is gone, and sleeps He long, ’til winter’s past, And now, with turning of the leaves, The air is chill at last. The sunlight hides ‘mid clouds of grey That with the breezes dance, And send their finest mists of rain That pierce like freezing lance. No time like this for fires bright, And cheering draughts, and lore, As through the window, leaves alight On autumn mistrals borne.

As sun sinks low o’er amber fields That harvests great will yield, And paints with flame the forests drear In gayest colors clear; With even’s chilling breath, there hints A sound, a shade, a glimpse, A thing not quite of earthly home That in the shadows roams. They say the mortal curtain wanes As day begins to fade, And with the twilight breezes comes A spirit from beyond At forest’s edge, to watch and wait, And gaze on every face. He seeks the soul of one now gone, Who he in life loved long. So with the lengthening of the night, This lovelorn spirit might Perchance, one day reunion grasp, And rest in peace at last.

Amid a sea of flame and smoke, In darkest shadow, as the yoke Of evil falls upon the free, And kings are forced to bend the knee Before their city, ash and stone, There rises up a knight, alone. His robes are tattered, stained, and torn, His brothers, fallen ‘neath the horde That swarmed through ancient halls of stone And left the grandeur broken down; Through treach’rous deed of lesser man, This realm shall never rise again. But up against a demon foul, The last knight sets his noble brow And raises sword of brightest steel That e’er was forged ‘neath royal seal, And charges forth, himself forgot, To lay in dust this evil blot. A fight most terrible to see, Of flame, and spark, and life to be, Or living death in shadow’s thrall, Should darkness set his throne o’er all; Yet still the noble knight endures, His heart of courage burning pure. And so, the fiery demon falls, The heralds all take up the call; But costly is this vict’ry won, For many fell of this land’s sons. Their deeds of v...

Against a dark and mortal foe, Where cloud and shadow ebb and flow Beneath the black and fiery sky That bids all hope despair and die; Far from the West, beyond the sea, Where starlight gleamed upon the trees And eagles soared o’er mountains fair, Where endless song dwelt in the air, Behold! there swells a mighty wave Of banner, shield, and swordsman brave Upon the brink of radiant light, That pierces all the host of night. Upon the sea of grey and dark This host of light, this flaming spark, Descends, and swift, ‘neath golden flood, The shadow flees, with heroes’ touch.