In the Bard's Theater you will find select poetry and various lore that is sure to intrigue and entertain all comers. Passed down from generations these legends and poetic works have endured the test of time. Enjoy!!
Behold The Passionate Ways Of Nature
Maiden moon, mystic lamp of the night, Thy silver shine guides my way. The gates to the other side are open wide And my mind drifts so far away. Thou enchant my soul and seduce my flesh Whilst thou whisper thy secrets to me. With the ghosts of fog I dance in thy light Till the dawn lifts the spell of me.
Rising sun I welcome thee, Young Balders' smile upon thy face. Thou bring the day, cast the shadow away, Thy holy flames the sky embrace. Thou warm the soil and thou warm my heart And feed me the strength that I need. On solstice night shall we celebrate May the most sacred torch ever be.
Honour be to our Mother Earth, The blessing of the gods upon thee. Thou give us life and thou taketh it, For life to go on eternally. Show me the wonders within this world ‘cause I shall never fail to see That merriment, grief and life and death Are altogether bound within thee.
Where the sea forever dances Over lonely cliff and dune, Where sweet twilight's vapor glances In a warmer-glowing moon, Where with the seraglio's graces Daylong toys the Mussulman, An enchantress 'mid embraces Handed me a talisman.
'Mid embraces I was bidden: "Guard this talisman of mine: In it secret power is hidden! Love himself has made it thine. Neither death nor ills nor aging, My beloved, does it ban, Nor in gales and tempest raging Can avail my talisman.
Never will it help thee gather Treasures of the Orient coast, Neither to thy harness tether Captives of the Prophet's host; Nor in sadness will it lead thee To a friendly bosom, nor From this alien southland speed thee To the native northern shore.
"But whenever eyes designing Cast on thee a sudden spell, In the darkness lips entwining Love thee not, but kiss too well: Shield thee, love, from evil preying, From new heart-wounds---that it can, From forgetting, from betraying Guards thee this my talisman."
Alexander Sergeyevich Pushkin
A Dream Pang
I had withdrawn in forest, and my song Was swallowed up in leaves that blew alway; And to the forest edge you came one day (This was my dream) and looked and pondered long, But did not enter, though the wish was strong: You shook your pensive head as who should say, ‘I dare not—too far in his footsteps stray— He must seek me would he undo the wrong.
Not far, but near, I stood and saw it all Behind low boughs the trees let down outside; And the sweet pang it cost me not to call And tell you that I saw does still abide. But ’tis not true that thus I dwelt aloof, For the wood wakes, and you are here for proof.
She Walks In Beauty by: Lord Byron
She walks in Beauty, like the night Of cloudless climes and starry skies; And all that's best of dark and bright Meet in her aspect and her eyes: Thus mellowed to that tender light Which Heaven to gaudy day denies.
One shade the more, one ray the less, Had half impaired the nameless grace Which waves in every raven tress, Or softly lightens o'er her face; Where thoughts serenely sweet express, How pure, how dear their dwelling-place.
And on that cheek, and o'er that brow, So soft, so calm, yet eloquent, The smiles that win, the tints that glow, But tell of days in goodness spent, A mind at peace with all below, A heart whose love is innocent!
I wish my love was a red, red rose growing in yon garden fair And I to be the gardener, of her I would take care There's not a month throughout the year, that my love I'd renew I'd garnish her with flowers fine, sweet William, Thyme and Rue
I wish I was a butterfly, I'd light on my love's breast And if I was a blue cuckoo, I'd sing my love to rest And if I was a nightingale, I'd sing the daylight clear I'd sit and sing for you, Molly, for once I loved you dear
I wish I was in Dublin town and seated on the grass In my right hand, a jug of punch, and on my knee, a lass I'd call for liquor freely and I'd pay before I'd go I'd roll my Molly in my arms, let the wind blow high or low
Irish folk song.
A Fairy Song
Over hill, over dale, Thorough bush, thorough brier, Over park, over pale, Thorough flood, thorough fire! I do wander everywhere, Swifter than the moon's sphere; And I serve the Fairy Queen, To dew her orbs upon the green; The cowslips tall her pensioners be; In their gold coats spots you see; Those be rubies, fairy favours; In those freckles live their savours; I must go seek some dewdrops here, And hang a pearl in every cowslip's ear.