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The Lay of Parrow?s Fast
They tell tale of oldman Parrow, Sage
When he was but of a mortal age.
Alone, he sat on Fodseltop,
Though Agirath came to stop
The Pere?s fasting and prayer to Empress Time
And setting down of the Book of Rime.
Twentyfiveday and twentyfivenight
Sat Parrow under darkest dark and brightest light.
And not a bite to east nor hardly water
And all for the Word for allson and alldaughter.
Agirath, his wings aspread,
Set down sweet bannoc by Parrow?s bed
And stole his dreams out of his head.
And though Parrow ate not the Devil?s bread
Alas Agirath had burned his book
But Parrow gave the ashes nary a look.
He set about to write again,
To pull from LadyTime a rain
Of law and way of life to follow.
Daunted, Agirath slunk to Sidhollow.
And oldman Parrow produced the pages
That have been passed through the ages
And learned and taught by all the sages
To free us all from these mortal cages.