Spring among the Highlands

t was spring among the highlands
I was dying in a battle
Lying curled up on the hard ground
Listening to death’s bones rattle

Thinking how it would be pleasant
Thinking wouldn’t it be so nice
To just lie there on the hard ground
Enjoying dying, as my last vice

Then I thought me of my lady
Missing me for all of her days
Wondering what happened to me
Hoping ‘gainst hope till she turned gray

The ring that she put on my finger
The way she cried when’er I came home
Not that she was all that angry
Just the tears of joy and then some

With my vision going darkly
And my mind to follow after
I thought some more about that small ring
As it perched upon my finger.

Some say that there is no magic
Some say objects have no power
I say they have not seen them
When they’re needed, in that hour

When the ring upon my finger
With its power struck me quite dumb
As it flared, nay, glowed so brightly
With a heat like countless bright suns

And the blackness on my vision
Burned away in but a moment
Fled it far, and fled it screaming
And it took with it my torment

And the deep chords of great music
Sounding like a call to battle
Picked me up and drove me onward
Drowning out death’s bones own rattle

Not to push me on to victory
Or the slaughter of all my foes
Just to get me off that field
Get me home, away from my woes

Where my lady stands there waiting
Smiling at me through her bright tears
Loving me even as I leave
And come back to her through the long year