fallen in Fall Crown Tourney, A.S. XXVII
Out of icy waters / Wulfric stands, legs planted;
Tree of battle, rootless / Traversed trans-atlantic.
Now he's come to Caid / Questing mighty fighters;
Warrior whet for glory / Wielding weapons aptly.
One thing he lacks only / Heart's-ease of an evening;
One to share his hearth-stone / Salve his wounds and bruises.
Viking seeks Valkyrie; /Spies the Grey-clad Lady.
She to him well-suited / Holding herself boldly.
Prize he sets his mind to; / Seizing it to please her:
Gifted with a kingdom / Can she turn with spurning?
Warrior sorely tested / Tempted past his tempering;
Sword so battle-hardened / Breaks instead of bending.
Back he comes, crown-lacking / Braves the Grey-clad Lady.
Bitter ale is fitting / For his heart's-loss, mourning.
Wonder at the fashion / Which her greeting meets him!
Robynne, Grey-clad Lady, / Love she holds above all.
Wulfric, come to fullness / Keeps to home, done roaming;
What can far lands offer / Liking to this Viking?
Heart's-ease he won't part with: / Wander-lust mistrusting.
What can take the place of / Wulfric's own Valhalla?
-- Lady Philippa Llewelyn Schuyler