Come greet the new life under sweet, singing
rains,
Come follow the Maiden beneath vernal showers,
For where her feet passed you will find fra-grant flowers.
The South wind, oh hear it, we ride to the call We follow the Guardian, the Lord of us all, We follow the Warrior, the strong to defend, The New Moon to fighters is ever a friend.
With summer comes fighting, with summer, our
foes;
And how we must thwart them the Guardian
knows.
The Warrior will give them no path but retreat,
The Warrior and Guardian will bring their defeat.
Come follow the West wind, the wind of the
fall,
The Mother will cast her cloak over us all. Come follow the Hunter out onto the plain, Return to the Clan with the prey we have slain.
For now comes the autumn, the time of the
West,
The season of Full Moon, of harvest, then rest.
So take from Her hands all the fruits of the
fields,
And thank Him for all that the autumn-hunt
yields.
The North wind, the cold wind, the wind of the
snow,
Tells us, it is time winter pastures to go.
The Guide knows the path, and the Crone shows
us how --
The Old Moon, and time for returning is now.
And if, with the winter, should come the last
breath,
And riding, we ride out of life into death,
The Wise One, the Old Moon, will ease our last
load,
The Guide will be waiting to show the new road.
(Leslac)
Deep into the stony hills, miles from keep or
hold
A troupe of guards comes riding with a lady and
her gold --
Riding in the center shrouded in her cloak of fur,
Companioned by a maiden and a toothless, aged
cur.
Three things see no end, a flower blighted ere it
bloomed,
A message that was wasted, and a journey that is doomed.
One among the guardsmen has a shifting, rest --
less eye,
And as they ride he scans the hills that rise
against the sky.
He wears both sword and bracelet worth more
than he can afford,
And hidden in his baggage is a heavy, secret
hoard.
Of three things be wary, of a feather on a cat,
The shepherd eating mutton and the guardsman
that is fat.
From ambush, bandits screaming charge the
packtrain and its prize,
And all but four within the train are taken by
surprise,
And all but four are cut down as a woodsman
fells a log,
The guardsman, and the lady, and the maiden,
and the dog,
Three things know a secret-first, the lady in a
dream,
The dog that barks no warning and the maid who
does not scream.
Then off the lady pulls her cloak, in armor she
is clad,
Her sword is out and ready, and her eyes are fierce and glad.
The maiden gestures briefly and the dog's a cur no more --
A wolf, sword-maid and sorceress now face the bandit corps!
Three things never anger or you will not live for
long,
A wolf with cubs, a man with power and a wom-an's sense of wrong.
The bandits growl a challenge and the lady only
grins,
The sorceress bows mockingly, and then the fight
begins!
When it ends there are but four left standing
from that horde
The witch, the wolf, the traitor, and the woman
with the sword!
Three things never trust in, the maiden sworn
as "pure,"
The vows a king has given and the ambush that
is "sure.
They strip the traitor naked and they whip him
on his way
Into the barren hillsides like the folks he used
to slay.
They take a thorough vengeance for the women
he cut down
And then they mount their horses and they jour-ney back to town.
Three things trust and cherish well, the horse
on which you ride,
The beast that guards and watches and the sis-ter at your side!
For further information on these songs, send a stamped, self-addressed envelope to:
FIREBIRD ARTS AND MUSIC
(formerly Off-Centaur Publications)
PO Box 424
El Cerrito, CA 94550