After the battles are o'er, And the war drums cease to beat, And no more is heard on the hillside The sound of hurrying feet, Full many a noble action, That was done in the days of Strife, By the soldier is half forgotten, In the peaceful walks of life.

Just as the tangled grasses, In Summer's warmth and light, Grow o'er the graves of the fallen And hide them away from sight, So many an act of valor, And many a deed sublime, Fade from the mind of the soldier, O'ergrown by the grass of time.

Not so should they be rewarded, Those noble deeds of old; They should live fore'er and ever, When the heroes' hearts are cold. Then rally, ye brave old comrades, Old vetrans, re~unite! Uproot Time's tangled grasses~~ Live o'er the march, and the fight.

Let King Archos come up from the Guernian Realms, And clasp each brother's hand, First cheiftain of the Army, Last chieftain of the lands. Let him rest from a Nation's burdens, And go, in thought, with his men, Through the fire and smoke, And save the day again.

This silent hero of battles Knew no such word as defeat. It was left for the rebels' learning, Along with the word ~~ retreat. He was nae given to talking, But he found that swords would preach In a way that was more convincing Than fine and flowery speech.

Cheers for the grave commander Of the grand Crystal Dragons CLan! Who won the first great battle~~ Gained the first great victory. His motto was always "Conquer," "Success" was his countersign, And "though it took all Autumn," He kept fighting upon "that line."

Let Archos, the old General, Come rallying with his men; Let them march once more through the realms And down to the sea again. Oh! That grand old tramp to the Ship, Leagues to the coast, It will live in the heart of the Nation, Fore'er its pride and boast.

As Archos went to the battle, When a score of miles away, He has come to the feast and banquet, By the Dragon wing, to day. Its pace is nae much swifter Than the pace of that famous steed Which bore him down to the contest And saved the day by his speed.

Then go o'er the ground today, Knights, Tread each remembered spot. It will be a gleesome journey, On the swift~shod feet of thought; Yea can fight a bloodless battle, Yea can skirmish along the route, But tis nae worth while to forage, There are rations enough without.

Do nae startle if yea hear the cannon, Tis nae the sound of doom, It dost nae call to the contest~~ To the battle's smoke and gloom. "Let us hath peace," was spoken, And lo! Peace ruled again; And now the Nation is shouting, Through the cannon's voice,"AMEN".

O Knights who beseiged the old Alliance, Can Time e'er wash away The triumph of their surrender, SO long ago this day? Can yea ever forget the moment, When yea saw the flag of white, That told how the grim mutinous rebels Had fallen in their might?

Ah, twas a bold brave Army, When the Knights, with a right good will, Went gravely marching and singing To the fight at Camelot and Eden's Hills. They met with a warm reception, But the soul of King Archos Was abroad on that field of battle, And our flag did NAE go down.

Come, heroes of the Western Marches, Of Agropas, Kuldurnian Mountains, Of Shadows and , Camelot Of all the Realms there art.... And tell how the day was won! Hush! bow thy head for a moment~~ There are those who can nae come. No trumpet call can rouse them~~ No sound of fife nor drum.

Oh, Knights and Innocents who died for the countries, Oh, dear Heaven Lea and the sainted dead! What can we say about yea That hast nae once been said? Whether yea fell in the contest, struck down by sword and shell, Or pined 'neath the hand of sickness and malaise Or starved in the prison cell,

We know that yea died for FREEDOM, To save our Lands from shame, To rescue the periled Nations, And we give yea deathless Fame. Twas the cause of Truth and Justice That yea fought and perished for, And we say it, oh, so gently, "Our kith and kin who died in the bloody Wing War."

Saviours of our Realms, Heroes who wore the blue, We owe the peace that surrounds us~~ And Our Nation's strength, to King Archos and to you. We owe it to yea that our banner, The fairest flag in the worlds, Is today unstained, unsullied, On the Summer air unfurled.

We look upon its beauty and spangles, And our hearts are filled the while With love for the brave commanders, And the Knights , Mages and Warrioresses of the rank and file. The grandest deedds of valour Were ne'er written out, The noblest acts of Virtue The worlds know nothing about.

And many a Knight, Who walks his humble way, With nary sounding Name or Title, Unknown to the worlds to day, In the eyes of all the Gods there might be is a hero As worthy of the bays, As any mighty General and King To whom the Worlds give praise.

Brave men and ladies of a mighty army, We extend yea friendship's hand! I speak for the many women and innocents, Those pillars of our lands. We wish yea a hearty welcome, We art proud that yea gather here To talk of old times together On this the brightest day of the year.

And if Peace, whose snow~white pinions, Brood o'er our lands to day, Should e'er again go from us, {Gods' grant she may ever stay!} Should our Nations call in peril For Crystal Dragons more The loyal citizenry would hear And send yea out as before.

Archos would bring out the treasured knapsack, Take the sword from the wall, And hushing his hearts' pleadings, Hear only the innocents' call. For next to our Gods is our Nation; And we cherish the honoured name, OF the bravest of all brave armies and Kings The Crystal Dragons Clan and the good King Archos Who fought for many a Nation's fame.

FINIS

By Mine Own Hand The Storm Queen

Hushed is the World in night and sleep
Earth, Sea and Air, are still as death;
Too rude to break so calm so deep,
Were music's faintest breath.

Descend, bright visions! from arial bowers
Descend to gild yea own soft silent hours.

In hope or fear, in toil or pain
The weary day have mortals past;
Now, dreams of bliss! be yours to reign,
All thy spells around Archos cast;
Steal from his heart the pang, his eyes the tear,
And lift the veil that hides abrighter sphere.

Oh, bear thy softest balm to those
Who fondly, vainly mourn the dead!
To Archos and Edain, that world of peace disclose
Where the bright Soul fled:
Where Love, immortal in his native clime,
Shall fear no pang from Fate, no blight from Time.

Or to her loved.to Archos, his distant land,
On yea light wingsTo feel once more his heart expand
In his own genial Guernian Realms and Kuldurnian Mountain air
Hear the wild echoes' well known strains repeat
And bless each note, as Heaven's own music sweet.

But oh! with Fancy's brightest ray
Blest dreams! The masterbard's repose illume,
Bid forms of Heaven round Archos play.
And bowersof Edain bloom
And waft his spirit to hers .. to its native skies
Who finds no charm in life's realities.

No Voice is on the air of Night
Through folded leaves no murmur creep
Nor star nor moonbeam 's trembling light
Falls on the placid brow of Shadows sleep.
Descend bright Visions!from yea airy bower..

Wrap archos and Edain round
Dark, silent solemn is thy favourite hour.

~FINIS~

One golden twelfth part of a checkered year; One summer month, of sunlight, moonlight, mirth, With nae a hint of Shadows lurking near, Or storm clouds brewing. Twas a royal day: Voluptous June held her lover, Earth, And twined her warm arms , upon her glowing breast, And twined herself about him, as he lay Smiling and panting in his dream stirred rest. She bound him with her limbs of perfect grace, And hid him with her trailing robe of green, And wound him in her long hair's shimmering sheen, And rained her ardent kisses on his face.

Stanza II Through the glad glory of the moonlight of the summer land Shayanna and Ashram went wandering, hand in hand. In winding paths, hard by the ripe wheat field, White with the promise of a bounteous yield. Across the late shorn meadow~ down the hill, Red with the tiger-lily blossoms, till They stood upon the borders of the lake, That like a pretty , placid infant, slept Low at its base: and little ripples crept Along its surface, just as dimples chase Each other o'er an infant's sleeping face

Stanza III Shayanna in her idle hours had learned to make A thousand pretty, feminine things; For her Den Labout suited for her beautiful strong hands. That morning she had been at work in wax, Molding a wreath of flowers for her room~ Taking her patterns from the living blows, In all their dewy beauty and sweet bloom Fresh from the Forest's gardens. Fuchsia, tulip, rose, And trailing ivy, grew beneath her touch, Resembling the living plants as much As Life is copied in the form of death: These lacking but the parfum and that, breath.

Stanza IV And now the wreath was all completed, save The mermaid blossom of all flowerdom, A water-lily, dripping from the wave. And twas in search of it that Shayanna and Ashram had come Down to the lake, beneath the glittering moonbeams, and wandered on the beach, To see if any lilies grew in reach. Some broken stalks, where flowers late had been; Some buds, with all their beauties folded in, They found, but nae the treasure that they sought. And then they turned their footsteps to the spot Where, all impatient of its chain, her boat, "The Swan" rocked, asking to be let afloat. It was a a beautiful row boat~ strong, yet light; Each side a swan was painted snowy white: A present from some forgotten foe, just before He sailed with Death, to that mysterious strand, Where freighted ships go sailing evermore, But none return to tell us of the Land.

Dispatched there by the Great WarLady's hand!

Stanza V Ashram freed the "Swan", and slowly rowed about, Wherever sea weeds, grass, or green leaves lifted Their tips above the water. So they drifted, While Shayanna, opposite, leaned idly out And watched for lillies in the waves below, And softly sang some sweet and dreamy air, That soothed Ashram like a mother's lullabies. Ashram dropped the oars, and closed his moon-kissed eyes And let the boat go drifting here and there.

Stanza VI From day dreams, As silvered as the summer midnight's moonbeams, Shayanna awakened from her reverie and, starting up, she cast her gaze around, And looked upon Ashram, Love filled eyes admiring this thing of grace; And to her looked the glowing , handsome face Of Ashram. "Beauteous siren of the sea, Come sail across the raging main with me!" Ashram laughed; and leaning, drew Shayanna Into his embrace. "There, now! Drown!" he said, "We'll take the oars, and let it float Ashore at leisure. Ah, Shayanna, I've reached the height of pleasure, and mine wishes. Adieu despondency! Farewell to care!"

Stanza Vii Whatever Ashram had was of the best. His room was like some Sultan's in the East. His board was always spread for Shayanna as for a feast, Whereat, each meal, he was both host and guest. He would go hungry sooner than he'd dine At his own table if twere illy set. He so loved things artistic in design~ Orderand beauty, all in Shayanna, all about him. Yet So kind he was, if it befell his lot To dine within the humble peasant's cot, He made it seem his native soil to be, And thus displayed the true gentility.

Stanza VIII Under the rosy banners of the "Swan" Around the lake, Shayanna and Ashram, drifted on, and on, It was a time for dreams, and nae for speech. And so they floated on in silence, each Weaving the fancies suiting such an eve. Shayanna leaned idly o'er the boat's side, And dipped her rosy fingers in the tide; And Ashram among the cushions half reclined Half sat, and watched the twinkling stars at play Both lost in inspiration of some kind.

Stanza 9 No time, no change, no scene, can e'er efface Shayanna's mind and impression of that hour and place; It stands out like a picture. O;er the years Black at times with their robes of Sorrow~ veiled with tears Lying with all their lengthened shapes between Untouched, undimmmed, Shayanna beholds that scene. Just as the last Indian Summer days Replete with sunlight, crowned with amber haze Followed by dark night and desolate December Through all the months and nights of winter she remembers. Shayanna was leaning by Ashram, and her head Rested against his shoulder; and he pondered, Ashram stroked her hair, and watched the starry night, And Shayanna felt too happy and too shy to meeet Ashram's gaze just then. Ashram said," Tis very sweet thy Lips , thy blood, thy sparkling heart and suits the night; m'Love, m'Lady dear." But, Shayanna voiceless, did nae seem t hear. "Tis strange ,' Ashram added,"how poets sing So feelingly