Midean's Ford (Song)

Author: Robert Jordan

Soft, the winds, like springtime's finger.
Soft, the rains, like Heaven's tears.
Soft, the years roll by in gladness,
never hinting storms to come,
never hinting whirlwinds' ravage,
rain of steel and battle thunder,
war to tear the heart asunder.

(TDR pg 424)

Back across the blood-red water,
marching back with heads held high.
No surrender, arm or sword,
no surrender, heart or soul.
Honor be theirs, ever after,
honor all the Age shall know.