The Black Tower

SAY that the men of the old black tower,

Though they but feed as the goatherd feeds,

Their money spent, their wine gone sour,

Lack nothing that a soldier needs,

That all are oath-bound men:

Those banners come not in.

There in the tomb stand the dead upright,

But winds come up from the shore:

They shake when the winds roar,

Old bones upon the mountain shake.

Those banners come to bribe or threaten,

Or whisper that a mans a fool

Who, when his own right kings forgotten,

Cares what king sets up his rule.

If he died long ago

Why do you dread us so?

There in the tomb drops the faint moonlight,

But wind comes up from the shore:

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