letra de the herald - edward elgar
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a grim old king
whose blood leapt madly when the trumpets brayed
to joyous battle ‘mid a storm of steeds
won a rich kingdom on a battle day;
but in the sunset he was ebbing fast
ringed by his weeping lords
his left hand held his white steed, to the belly splashed with blood
that seemed to mourn him with its drooping head;
his right, his broken brand; and in his ear
his old victorious banners flap the winds
he called his faithful herald to his side, –
“go! tell the dead
i come.”
with a proud smile
the warrior with a stab let out his soul
which fled and shrieked through all the other world
“ye dead! … my master comes!”
and there was pause
till the great shade should enter
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