Rialto Song

Word has gone out to castle and hall,
towers and towns and fortresses all,
word of ill omen, shameful decree,
sending to exile one out of three.

Up rose the people straight to declare,
exile of kinsmen they would not bear.
Who then will call them forth to the fray?
Words that have wings went forth on their way.

East and Atlantia, Outlands, An Tir,
bright Ansteorra, proud Calontir,
Atenveldt, West, Trimaris, Caid,
Drachenwald heard and answered at need.

Who were the warriors called by those words?
Heralds and scribes and brewers and bards,
weavers and cooks and craftsmen and kings,
drawn by the call of words that have wings.

They, like Horatius holding the field,
fight from a bridge, and never will yield.
All that they have they give to the strife,
all but their honour, dearer than life.

We are not slaves, but nobles by birth,
bound by no words that crawl on the earth.
Press the fight forward, kinsmen and kings;
Prove to the foe that freedom has wings!

Dorigen (ANDERSJC@howdy.princeton.EDU)

(Tune available by request)