Rhiannon Boyle: Difference between revisions

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m Linked "GdS" to the wiki page on the Order of the Goutte de Sang
 
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The Honorable Lady Rhiannon Boyle, GdS became a Sergeant to the Baroness of Aquaterra in the Lancer division on September 11, AS XLV (2010).
The Honorable Lady Rhiannon Boyle, [[Order of the Goutte de Sang|GdS]] became a Sergeant to the Baroness of Aquaterra in the Lancer division on September 11, AS XLV (2010).


For the bardic portion of the day of Testing I sang a modified and addended "Brave and Bonny Host"(as noted by itallics).  As requested by those in attendance, here are the lyrics I sang:   
For the bardic portion of the day of Testing I sang a modified and addended "Brave and Bonny Host"(as noted by itallics).  As requested by those in attendance, here are the lyrics I sang:   

Latest revision as of 18:58, 20 January 2011

The Honorable Lady Rhiannon Boyle, GdS became a Sergeant to the Baroness of Aquaterra in the Lancer division on September 11, AS XLV (2010).

For the bardic portion of the day of Testing I sang a modified and addended "Brave and Bonny Host"(as noted by itallics). As requested by those in attendance, here are the lyrics I sang:

Oh see how the mists lie over the glen

The morning of battle has come

Soft in the glen there's the muffled sound of men

And the murmur of the battle drum.


Now the light of the sun spreads over the hill

Scatters the mists from the green

There in the clear stand the warriors of An Tir

Their Black and Golden Banner can be seen


Chorus:

Fill our cups with Ale or Wine or Beer!

We will stand together, never fear

And we'll drink down a toast

To the brave and bonny host

Who fights for the banner of An Tir


See them advance as a Wall of Steel

Each one with sword and shield

Now they charge with a cheer "For the Honor of An Tir!"

To win or to die upon the field.


High on the Hill stand the Archers

Bow arms strong and true

They blanket the field with arrows for An Tir

Ones that miss their marks are few


Hark do you hear the rumble of hooves

Lances strike in the lane

With a hew and a cry, the Riders of An Tir

Cut down the brigands with distain


By many a fire there's a Lady fair,

Her favor is worn upon the field

A needle's in her threads and she's baking up some breads

Preparing for her love's return


To the crest of the hill fight the brave and the bold

Where the slain thickly lie on the field

Now alone in the clear stand the warriors of An Tir

and their foemen at last are forced to yield


Oh, strike up your lute all ye minstrels,

Whose skill is renowned far and wide,

Come tell us again of this mighty band of men

Who carried the battle for our side.