The Skeleton in Armor

Album cover art for "The Skeleton in Armor" by Hal Holbrook

Hal Holbrook - Pop

The Skeleton in Armor

0 Plays

View ArtistView Album

Lyrics

"Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! Who, with thy hollow breast Still in rude armor drest Comest to daunt me! Wrapt not in Eastern balms But with thy fleshless palms Stretched, as if asking alms Why dost thou haunt me?" Then, from those cavernous eyes Pale flashes seemed to rise As when the Northern skies Gleam in December; And, like the water's flow Under December's snow Came a dull voice of woe From thе heart's chamber "I was a Viking old! My deeds, though manifold No Skald in song has told No Saga taught thee! Take heed, that in thy vеrse Thou dost the tale rehearse Else dread a dead man's curse; For this I sought thee "Far in the Northern Land By the wild Baltic's strand I, with my childish hand Tamed the gerfalcon; And, with my skates fast-bound Skimmed the half-frozen Sound That the poor whimpering hound Trembled to walk on "Oft to his frozen lair Tracked I the grisly bear While from my path the hare Fled like a shadow; Oft through the forest dark Followed the were-wolf's bark Until the soaring lark Sang from the meadow "But when I older grew Joining a corsair's crew O'er the dark sea I flew With the marauders Wild was the life we led; Many the souls that sped Many the hearts that bled By our stern orders "Many a wassail-bout Wore the long Winter out; Often our midnight shout Set the cocks crowing As we the Berserk's tale Measured in cups of ale Draining the oaken pail Filled to o'erflowing "Once as I told in glee Tales of the stormy sea Soft eyes did gaze on me Burning yet tender; And as the white stars shine On the dark Norway pine On that dark heart of mine Fell their soft splendor "I wooed the blue-eyed maid Yielding, yet half afraid And in the forest's shade Our vows were plighted Under its loosened vest Fluttered her little breast Like birds within their nest By the hawk frighted "Bright in her father's hall Shields gleamed upon the wall Loud sang the minstrels all Chanting his glory; When of old Hildebrand I asked his daughter's hand Mute did the minstrels stand To hear my story "While the brown ale he quaffed Loud then the champion laughed And as the wind-gusts waft The sea-foam brightly So the loud laugh of scorn Out of those lips unshorn From the deep drinking-horn Blew the foam lightly "She was a Prince's child I but a Viking wild And though she blushed and smiled I was discarded! Should not the dove so white Follow the sea-mew's flight Why did they leave that night Her nest unguarded? "Scarce had I put to sea Bearing the maid with me Fairest of all was she Among the Norsemen! When on the white sea-strand Waving his armed hand Saw we old Hildebrand With twenty horsemen "Then launched they to the blast Bent like a reed each mast Yet we were gaining fast When the wind failed us; And with a sudden flaw Came round the gusty Skaw So that our foe we saw Laugh as he hailed us "And as to catch the gale Round veered the flapping sail 'Death!' was the helmsman's hail 'Death without quarter!' Mid-ships with iron keel Struck we her ribs of steel; Down her black hulk did reel Through the black water! "As with his wings aslant Sails the fierce cormorant Seeking some rocky haunt With his prey laden, — So toward the open main Beating to sea again Through the wild hurricane Bore I the maiden "Three weeks we westward bore And when the storm was o'er Cloud-like we saw the shore Stretching to leeward; There for my lady's bower Built I the lofty tower Which, to this very hour Stands looking seaward "There lived we many years; Time dried the maiden's tears; She had forgot her fears She was a mother; Death closed her mild blue eyes Under that tower she lies; Ne'er shall the sun arise On such another! "Still grew my bosom then Still as a stagnant fen! Hateful to me were men The sunlight hateful! In the vast forest here Clad in my warlike gear Fell I upon my spear Oh, death was grateful! "Thus, seamed with many scars Bursting these prison bars Up to its native stars My soul ascended! There from the flowing bowl Deep drinks the warrior's soul Skoal! to the Northland! skoal!" Thus the tale ended

Rate this song

Rate this song

0/5.0 - 0 Ratings

5
0.0% (0)
4
0.0% (0)
3
0.0% (0)
2
0.0% (0)
1
0.0% (0)

Loading comments...

Credits

Writers
  • Henry Wadsworth Longfellow