John McCullagh July 27, 2006
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Dark Narrow Water your secrets you hold

Though the days are long gone since your knights were so bold

Yet your name’s still remembered when tales they are told

Of you and the lovely Lassara.

This high-born maiden was sad and dismayed

When within your dark walls she, a prisoner was made

And daily she wept while nightly she prayed

That someone would come who would free her.
 

Her spirit sought freedom to wander at will

And to gaze at the wonders beyond the next hill

The cries of the seagulls made her lonely heart thrill

That somehow she might fly to her lover.
 

A handsome young troubadour happened that way

Who sang of earth’s wonders in clear roundelay

Before his song ended, he’d stolen away

The heart of the lovely Lassara.
 

To her he appeared the most perfect on Earth

To her kin, he was merely a butt for their mirth

To be scorned for being a youth of low birth

They forbade him to see the young maiden.
 

He crossed the dark inlet, the lovesick young swain

From Nun’s Island he sang forth his melodic strain

‘Till he strayed within bowshot and was cruelly slain

And they rendered him up to the ocean.
 


Lassara was troubled and tossed in her sleep

She heard in a vision his voice from the deep

She raced to the parapet, sprang from the keep

To her death, and her lover, who waited.


Beyond forever, the currents they ride

The minstrel and she who dared be his bride

Their arms locked together they float side by side

They had found their own freedom together!

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