Darkwood, Oak of The West

In the west of the land, where the song began,
is a kingdom proud and free.
And the soul of the realm is the mountains and vales
where the oak lands meet the sea.
In the forest rills through the ancient hills
flows the dream for which we quest.
Like a strong old tree is the Barony
of Darkwood, the Oak of the West.

When war comes thundering, thundering on,
the Darkwood line stands tall.
And we smite the foe with shattering blows,
and send him to the wall.
Though the odds be long and the strife be strong,
we are equal to the test,
And the Kingdom stands by the strength of our hand —
Darkwood, the Oak of the West!

Oh, the peaceful folk, and the dreaming land,
and the children running free.
And a distant shout, and a curl of smoke,
and invaders ‘neath the trees!
Then a skirl of pipes, and the clash of steel,
and our warriors marching abreast!
Think they e’er to dare, let all foemen beware
of Darkwood, the Oak of the West!


Oh the weary years, and the weary miles,
and the wars so far from home.
And my heart yearns back to the faces I knew
as I tread the homeward gloam.
Ah, I see them there, in the upper air
as I top the final crest!
Then the road winds down to the home of my heart —
Darkwood, the Oak of the West!

– John Rossignol, Bard of the Oaks
October 2004, AS XXXIX