Lithograph…- Eric Syrdal

 

Sculpture by M.J. Talbot

Near the hollow
Where the babbling brook plays
Where willows bow
their shaggy helms
juniper kneels to holly
And oaks remove their crowns

There lived a maid
The daughter of a giant
Though she inherited no great height
nor the strength to crush a mountain
Her birthright was of the heart and of two gentle hands

She loved a Sellsword
Who, asked neither for coin nor power
When he sold his heart
To her blue eyes and fair smile

Though, as her blood demanded,
Never would she walk by daylight’s escort
lest she forever be turned to stone

Theirs were the hours
of darkness
in moonlight
and to the symphony of the night
they danced by torch’s flame
until morning’s fire
drove the pastel fingers of dawn
over the horizon

Then they would away
into shadow’s umbral arms
until the evening
lowered its twilight curtain

Sellswords
even those bound to a heart
must answer
when the war drum beats

Death cares for neither
coin nor power
when a heart is crossed
with a blade

So it was without fortune
nor fame when he was brought
to the hollow
where the babbling brook plays

At the feet of his love
he was laid
by the golden light of morning
his wound, mortal
he would not greet the evening alive

She
wishing for him to see her once more
before his body was cold and spirit gone
stretched out her arms to shield
his loving eyes from the sun…

…and ever after you shall see her still

their love immortal
forever fixed in her eyes
and in her embrace of stone