(Fwd) One for the books

Larkin O'Kane larkin at apache.webstar.net
Sat Aug 10 14:22:35 PDT 1996


------- Forwarded Message Follows -------
Date:          Sat, 10 Aug 1996 13:15:26 -0600
To:            larkin at webstar.net
From:          erilarlo at win.bright.net (MaryLO)
Subject:       One for the books


>Subject: Re: Anglo-Saxon 'Song'
>
>
>---------------------------------------------------------
>         Anglo-Saxon Verse
>
>Take a rest, I   spin a yarn of
>Courageous company   cursed to comedies of
>Errors ever   matching their metal.
>Surer sire ne'er  sailed as skipper.
>Mate a mighty   man of puffin-pond.
>Five ill fated   fares found, they
>Set the sails of  smallish sea-steed
>Wandered wide the   wild whale's-way
>Whiling away a  wistful morning.
>
>Wond'rous wild   weather then wound
>Thundering thrones   threw their thrusting
>Spears of light.   Shouting and laughing,
>Murderous tempest   tossed the tiny
>ship and swept on   shore on some
>unknown island,   alone, unsheltered.
>
>Fate is a fixed   thing -- thoughts of
>Avoidance turn no   relentless tide.
>Better to bravely   face your fortune.
>Victory is valueless,   void for the shrinking
>Coward too craven to   benefit from bounty.
>He who hopes   himself to harbor
>Shall but surely   doom himself.
>Conversely, for courageous   carls of character,
>Their efforts are everlasting   even in excesive loss.
>Gaining much glory from   strength of heart, their
>Stories are sung in   meadhalls forever.
>Ever ought the   eager youth
>Seek the strengths of   courage and character.
>
>Tempest tossed   travelers of the Minnow
>May never make   their way home. Yet
>All the effort of   scant survival
>Shall not break their   boldness of spirit.
>Skipper and sailor   save not themselves.
>Comfort of their charges,   the crew's sworn duty.
>
>No horse sleighs,   no high seat,
>No heirloom swords,   all luxuries lost.
>Stark their survival in   priest-like poverty
>Master, and mate,   and learned priest,
>Gold wielder,   his gracious wife,
>Buxom bard,   and pastoral maiden,
>Seven survivors   cast away, stranded,
>Gathered by fate on   Gilligan's Island.
If you have a friend you trust well,    | Lord Larkin O'Kane
        go often to see him;            | Trelac, Ansteorra
for brush and high grass will overgrow  | Charlie Cain
        the road on which no one walks  | San Angelo, Texas, USA
-- Havamal                              | larkin at webstar.net



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