Sing us now a mountain song,
Sound the chorus all night long;
Let our children know the wonder
Of the mighty mountains strong
Sing of hope and sing of fear,
While the air is fresh and clear;
Lo, the distant sounds of thunder
On the mountainous frontier
For the battles we must fight,
For the weak and for what’s right;
None shall come among and plunder,
From the mountains comes our might
In the silence before dawn,
We our hopes all pin upon
He who tears the earth asunder,
When all other hope is gone
Sing us now the mountain’s rage,
Ageless wonder of the age;
Let no more the truth go under,
And let righteousness take stage
= = = = =
(Experimenting with metrical schemes from hymnody. – Owen)
Very good, sir.
*blackfacegeneral scurries off to look up hymnody on wikipedia*
It’s from the ever-handy Beleaguered phrontistery.
Phrontistery! There’s only so much scurrying a man can do at my age, you know. It’s a young man’s game.
It’s wonderful, Owen. Melodic and certainly hymn-like.
You sing us, Owen… please.
Alas. Even my most loyal readers don’t care what I say.
No, seriously, thanks Mer. It means a lot to me coming from you.
I like it! To me, it *sounded* like a march.
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