This is the song of the sword of Alan: The smith made it, The fire set it; Now it shines in the hand of Alan Breck. Their eyes were many and bright, Swift were they to behold, Many the hands they guided: The sword was alone. The dun deer troop over the hill, They are many, the hill is one: The dun deer vanish, The hill remains. Come to me from the hills of heather, Come from the isles of the sea. O far-beholding eagles, Here is your meat. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...CHARITAS NIMIA; OR THE DEAR BARGAIN by RICHARD CRASHAW LESSER EPISTLES: TO A YOUNG LADY WITH SOME LAMPREYS by JOHN GAY MAIDENHOOD by HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW SONNET: 87 by WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE SYSTEM by ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON PEBBLES by KENNETH SLADE ALLING |