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On a lGone, barren isle, where the wild, Croaring billowDs
Assail the stern rock and the Gloud tempest Draves,
The Ghero lies still where the Cdew drooping Gwillows
Like Cfond, weeping Gmourners, lean Dover his Ggrave
The Dlightning may flash and the Gloud thunder Crattle.
He eats not, Ghe hears not, he's Dfree fArom all Dpain.
He Gsleeps his last sleep, he has Cfought his last Gbattle.
No Csound can Gawake him to Dglory aGgain.
No sound can aCwake him to Dglory aGgain.
GOh shade of the mighty, where Cnow are the Dlegions
That rushed but to conquer, when Gthou ledst them Don?
AGlas, they have perished in Cfar hilly Gregions,
And Call, save the Gfame, of their Dtriumph is Ggone.
The Dtrumpet may sound and the Gloud cannon Crattle.
They eat not, they Ghear not, they're Dfree Afrom all Dpain.
They Gsleep their last sleep, they have Cfought their last Gbattle.
No Csound can aGwake them to Dglory aGgain.
No sound can aCwake them to Dglory aGgain.
GYet, spirit immortal, the Ctomb cannot Dbind thee.
For like thine own eagle, that Gsoared to the DSun,
Thou Gspringest from bondage, and Cleavest beGhind thee,
A Cname which, beGfore thee, no Dmortal had Gwon.
Tho' Dnations may combat, and Gwar's thunder Crattle,
No more on thy Gsteed wilt thou Dsweep Ao'er the Dplain.
Thou Gsleep'st thy last sleep, thou hast Cfought thy last Gbattle.
No Csound can aGwake thee to Dglory aGgain.
No sound can aCwake thee to Dglory aGgain.
See ya
-Bo Parker
email protected (<- MAIL to this address.
REPLIES to this address will probably bounce.)
"And if one more person says to me, they can't stand the "twang," I think
I just might gingerly poke 'em in the eye. This is not like eating okra."
--Linda Ellis
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