Song Of The Outer Bastion, Captured November 2nd.

What though the foe exultant carouses in the keep,
His hirelings on the parapets to jeer our pennants torn?
The fight began but yesterday, the moat was wide and deep,
We've breached the sullen outer wall, we'll rested be by morn.

The foe was old and crafty, untried our ranks and slight;
The fortress deemed impregnable, our weapons strange and few;
But still we breached the outer wall, and, come the morning light,
We'll raise our blooded claymores, and battle them anew.

They showed us all their mettle, and none of it rang true;
Discovered all their panoply of trick'ry and deceit;
But now we hold a bastion, and as our bugles blew,
We shook the crumbling battlements beneath their craven feet.

The tyrant's serfs are with us, fast forming to our aid;
We've roused a burdened border-side to life and hope once more.
We've footing on the fortalice, and through the breach we made,
When dawning dims our sentry fires, our freshened ranks will pour.