[Saraphim]

I'll take a stab at this. A short one, and one I've read often and parodied (is that a word?) before:

The rhyme of the Barrow-Wight:

Cold be hand and heart and bone,
and cold be sleep under stone:
never more to wake on stony bed,
never, till the Sun fails and the Moon is dead.
In the black wind the stars shall die,
and still on gold here let them lie,
till the dark lord lifts his hand
over dead sea and withered land.

~~~~~

Warm of soul and heart and life,
and warm of smile over strife:
Always to dance and sing for joy,
Always, till sadness becomes coy.
Under bright moon the stars shine bright,
but still we call for another pint,
until the sun begins to rise,
we stay, for this party we cannot surmise.

~~~~~
*Wince* Alright, so my bard skills need some work. But great thread H-I!