The Swans of Gar's Edge
Wolcensmen
Ashen, berimed and worn
Shivering by the shore
Borne upon sheets of ice
I am forlorn
Bitten by frost and fright
Blind in a field of white
Glowering ghosts Arise
Hither and nigh
Great are the Swans of Gar's cold Edge
Chidden by throthful eyes
Wordless yet wholly wise
Who for an oath that I'll
Ever abide
Great are the Swans of Gar's cold Edge
Still are the wings that once were fledge
Fair is the twin that maddens least
Bound are the mouths of wiser beasts
Wings of the wakeful
Born of a thaw yet nigh
Words of the wealsome
Sworn to a soul on high
Wings of the wakeful
Born of a thaw yet nigh
Words of the wealsome
Sworn to a soul on high
Wings of the wakeful
Born of a thaw yet nigh
Words of the wealsome
Sworn to a soul on high



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