Lord Duncan Rose
fallen in Fall Crown Tourney, A.S. L
A Fox Tale
(englyn penfyr)
Come, sit by the fire’s glow. Hear a tale
Of each
baleful strike and blow:
Pennants gay and flags a drift on the breeze.
Heralds’
geas on fighers swift:
Advancing
or given shrift.
Isolde in vert and purpure be-garbed,
Lady bard with
quill a-stir
Is pleased Duncan ’s heart to spur.
Sir Artus, Romano-Brit, takes the field.
Sword and
shield help not a whit;
Isolde soothes his brow, knits his sore wounds.
Ne’er to
swoon, she urges grit
Hopes
abound; fighters' fates sealed.
Ketill
struck and Duncan
reeled.
Duncan Rose fell in the fray. His lady bard
Heart en
garde, lauds him this day.
Pray tell,
what does the fox say?