Friends of Nimrodel: Tapestry of Dreams - The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum

Nurumaiel · 01-03-2005, 03:27 PM

Liornung saw that Leafa grew apprehensive at her betrothed's words, so he hastened to speak.

"I did not know Gywllion, nay, no more than I can know her now, gazing up her sweet, innocent face. Yet I cannot help but love her as I see she was so loved, and I cannot help but love those who loved her so well. Mortal speech fails in such a moment and grows awkward... I have said nothing, and I can say no more now."

But he did not fall completely silent, for he raised his fiddle and began to play a sweet, slow, sad tune, and he sang the words of a song that was unknown to those about him, and hardly known to himself.

By a river, flowing, sweeping
stood a party, sadly weeping.
A gentle one was laid to rest
and grieved by those who loved her best.
Yet not all was dimmed by tears
and felt the passing of the years;
despite all that might be gone
still the river shimmers on.

And the river flows on
down through the valley
and the river sparkles clear.
And the river flows on
down through the valley
and our sweet girls lies here.

Who would think 'twas not the end
as lost life will not soon mend?
Yet a whisper ever on
said the maid was not yet gone.
Be the memory but a part
each still holds her in his heart
and be years short or be years long,
like the river she shimmers on.

And the river flows on
down through the valley
and the river sparkles clear.
And the river flows on
down through the valley
and our sweet girl lies here.

And, so singing, he stepped forward and kissed the brow of the ever sleeping girl.

01-03-2005, 03:27 PM	#11
Nurumaiel Vice of Twilight Join Date: Nov 2002 Location: on a mountain Posts: 1,121	Liornung saw that Leafa grew apprehensive at her betrothed's words, so he hastened to speak. "I did not know Gywllion, nay, no more than I can know her now, gazing up her sweet, innocent face. Yet I cannot help but love her as I see she was so loved, and I cannot help but love those who loved her so well. Mortal speech fails in such a moment and grows awkward... I have said nothing, and I can say no more now." But he did not fall completely silent, for he raised his fiddle and began to play a sweet, slow, sad tune, and he sang the words of a song that was unknown to those about him, and hardly known to himself. By a river, flowing, sweeping stood a party, sadly weeping. A gentle one was laid to rest and grieved by those who loved her best. Yet not all was dimmed by tears and felt the passing of the years; despite all that might be gone still the river shimmers on. And the river flows on down through the valley and the river sparkles clear. And the river flows on down through the valley and our sweet girls lies here. Who would think 'twas not the end as lost life will not soon mend? Yet a whisper ever on said the maid was not yet gone. Be the memory but a part each still holds her in his heart and be years short or be years long, like the river she shimmers on. And the river flows on down through the valley and the river sparkles clear. And the river flows on down through the valley and our sweet girl lies here. And, so singing, he stepped forward and kissed the brow of the ever sleeping girl.