Sadly, @lesliefish_filk has departed this world. She probably wasn't Christian, but this hasn't stopped me from enjoying her songs since I was a teen. This one, another poem from Rudyard Kipling, is my favorite out of all her songs.
I know this song doesn't fit this channel, but this is my tribute to someone I enjoyed listening to. I hope you guys can understand and also check out her other works.
With hope in God I pray for her soul and for the chance to see her performing live in heaven.
Rest in Peace, Leslie.
Lyrics as sung by Leslie Fish and Joe Bethancourt:
Legate, I heard the news last night – my cohort ordered home By ships to Portus Itius and thence by road to Rome. I've marched the companies aboard, the arms are stowed below: Now let another take my sword. Command me not to go!
I've served in Britain forty years, from Vectis to the Wall, I have no other home than this, nor any life at all. Last night I did not understand, but, now the hour draws near That calls me to my native land, I feel that land is here.
Here where men say my name was made, here where my work was done; Here where my dearest dead are laid – my wife and only son; Here where time, custom, grief and toil, age, memory, service, love, Have rooted me in British soil. How can I remove?
For me this land, that sea, these airs, those folk and fields suffice. What purple Southern pomp can match our changeful Northern skies, Black with December snows unshed or pearled with August haze – The clanging arch of steel-grey March, or June's long-lighted days?
You'll take the old Aurelian Road through shore-descending pines Where, blue as any peacock's neck, the Tyrrhene Ocean shines. You'll go where laurel crowns are won, but – will you e'er forget The scent of hawthorn in the sun, or bracken in the wet?
Let me work here for Britain's sake – at any task you will – A marsh to drain, a road to make or native troops to drill. Some Western camp (I know the Pict) or granite Border keep, Mid seas of heather derelict, where our old messmates sleep.
Legate, I come to you in tears – My cohort ordered home! I've served in Britain forty years. What would I do in Rome? Here is my heart, my soul, my mind – the only life I know. I cannot leave it all behind. Command me not to go!