Oh, you bards of old with your tales
Of changes, voyages and wars!
How easy it is to imagine you
Looking around and listening and taking
Dictation from gods direct.
The sea invites the intrepid,
Rocky inlets to shelter the brave
To moor safely and trees to shade.
Lighting fires for home hearths and gather
Telling eternal stories of might.
The hills encourage the hardy;
Neither shelter nor cave is seen
The loneliness of black speck soars.
Still, the grey scrub offers scented breeze
A perfect stage for those ancient giants
As the sky darkens and storms roll by
Violet flashes illuminate the bay
Where are you now, oh bards of old?
Spin us your threads, carve us your heros
A night like this speaks your thunder.