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Legends Trilogy

The continuing story of Raistlin and Caramon Majere. Separated after The War of the Lance, the two brothers are brought face-to-face once more through a strange twist of fate spawned by Raistlin's dark plans.

Other information about Legends Trilogy

Series Summary

Reviews

Quotes

Song Title

Location

Legends Volume 1 --- page 94
Legends Volume 1 --- page 132
Legends Volume 2 --- page 28
Legends Volume 2 --- page 86
Legends Volume 2 --- page 207
Legends Volume 2 --- page 271
Legends Volume 3 --- page 61
Legends Volume 3 --- page 164
Legends Volume 3 --- page 207
Legends Volume 3 --- page 306
Legends Volume 3 --- page 345
Black NotesBlack Notes
 

Three Sheets to the Wind


Sing as the spirits move you,
Sing to your doubling eye,
Plain Jane becomes Lovable Lindas
When six moons shine in the sky.

Sing to a sailor's courage,
Sing while the elbows bend,
A ruby port your harbor,
Hoist three sheets to the wind.

 
Sing while the heart is cordial,
Sing to the absinthe of cares,
Sing to the one for the weaving road,
And the dog, and each of his hairs.

All of the waitresses love you,
Every dog is your friend,
Whatever you say is just what you mean,
So hoist three sheets to the wind.

 

The Bird Song of Wayreth Forest

 

Easeful the forest, easeful its mansions perfected
Where we grow and decay no longer, our trees ever green,
Ripe fruit never falling, streams still and transparent
As glass, as the heart in repose this lasting day.

Beneath these branches the willing surrender of movement,
The business of birdsong, of love, left on the borders
With all of the fevers, the failures of memory.
Easeful the forest, easeful its mansions perfected.

And light upon light, light as dismissal of darkness,
Beneath these branches no shade, for shade is forgotten
In the warmth of the light and the cool smell of the leaves
Where we grow and decay; no longer, our trees ever green.

 

 

Here there is quiet, where music turns in upon silence,
Here at the world's imagined edge, where clarity
Completes the senses, at long last we behold
Ripe fruit never falling, streams still and transparent.

Where the tears are dried from our faces, or settle,
Still as a stream in accomplished countries of peace,
And the traveler opens, permitting the voyage of light
As air, as the heart in repose this lasting day.

Easeful the forest, easful the mansions perfected
Where we grow and decay no longer, our trees ever green,
Ripe fruit never falling, streams still and transparent
As air, as the heart in repose this lasting day.

 

Song of the Undead

 

How loud your heart is calling, love,
How dose the darkness at your breast,
How hectic are the rivers, love,
Drawn through your dying wrist.

And love, what heat your frail skin hides,
As pure as salt, as sweet as death,
And in the dark the red moon rides
The foxfire of your breath.

 

Tas's Song of Courage - Hymn to the Dawn


Even the night must fail
For light sleeps in the eyes
And dark becomes dark on dark
Until the darkness dies.

Soon the eye resolves
Complexities of night
Into stillness, where the heart
Falls into fabled light.

 

Dark Queen's Reply
Even the night must fail
When light sleeps in the eyes,
When dark becomes dark on dark
And into darkness dies.

Soon the eye dissolves,
Perplexed by the teasing night,
Into a stillness of the heart,
A fable of fallen light.

 

Song of Huma A Reprise


Through cinders and blood, the harvest of dragons,
Traveled Huma, cradled by dreams of the Silver Dragon,
The Stag perpetual, a signal before him.
At last the eventual harbor, a temple so far to the east
That it lay where the east was ending.
There Paladine appeared
In a pool of stars and glory, announcing
That of all choices, one most terrible had fallen to Huma.
For Paladine knew that the heart is a nest of yearnings,
That we can travel forever toward the light, becoming
What we can never be.
 

Dwarven Marching Song


Under the hills the heart of the axe
Arises from cinders the still core of the fire,
Heated and hammered the handle an afterthought,
For the hills are forging the first breath of war.
The soldier's heart sires and brothers
The battlefield.
Come back in glory
Or on your shield.

Out of the mountains in the midst of the air,
The axes are dreaming dreaming of rock,
Of metal alive through the ages of ore,
Stone on metal metal on stone.
The soldier's heart contains and dreams
The battlefield.
Come back in glory
Or on your shield.

Fled of iron imagined from the vein,
Green of brass green of copper
Sparked in the fire the forge of the world,
Consuming in its dream as it dives into bone.
The soldier's heart lies down, completes
The battlefield.
Come back in glory
Or on your shield.

 

The Lark, the Raven, and the Owl

The light in the eastern skies
Is still and always morning,
It alters the renewing air
Into belief and yearning.

And larks rise up like angels,
Like angels larks ascend
From sunlit grass as bright as gems
Into the cradling wind.


The plain light in the east
Contrives out of the dark
The machinery of the day,
The diminished song of the lark.

 

 

But ravens ride the night
And the darkness west,
The wingbeat of their hearts
Large in a buried nest.


Through night the seasons ride into the dark,
The years surrender in the changing lights,
The breath turns vacant on the dusk or dawn
Between the abstract days and nights.
For there is always corpselight in the fields
And corposants above the slaughterhouse,
And at deep noon the shadowy vallenwoods
Are bright at the topmost boughs.


 

Water from Dust Crysania's Song

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Water from dust, and dust rising out of water
Continents forming, abstract as color or light
To the vanished eye, to the touch of Paladine's daughter
Who knows with a touch that the robe is white,
Out of that water a country is rising, impossible
When first imagined in prayer,
And the sun and the seas and the stars invisible
As gods in a code of air.

 

Dust from the water, and water arising from dust,
And the robe containing all colors assumed into white,
Into memory, into countries assumed in the trust
Of ever returning color and light,
Out of that dust arises a well spring of tears
To nourish the work of our hands
In forever approaching country of yearning and years,
In due and immanent lands.

 

Laurana

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Laurana
My beloved wife, when we parted a week ago, we little thought this parting might be for a long, long time. We have been kept apart so much of our lives. But, I must admit, I cannot grieve that we are separated now. It comforts me to know that you are safe, although if Raistlin succeeds in his designs, I fear there will be no safe havens left anywhere upon Krynn.
I must be honest, my dearest. I see no hope that any of us can survive. I face without fear the knowledge that I shall probably die-I believe I can honestly say that. But I cannot face it without bitter anger. The last war, I could afford bravery. I had nothing, so I had nothing to lose. But I have never wanted so much to live as I do now. I am like a miser, coveting the joy and happiness we have found, loath to give it up. I think of our plans, the children we hope for. I think of you, my beloved, and what grief my death must bring, and I cannot see this page for the tears of sorrow and fury that I cry.
I can only ask you to let this consolation be yours as it is mine-this parting will be our last. The world can never separate us again. I will wait for you, Laurana, in the realm where time itself dies.
And one evening, in that realm of eternal spring, eternal twilight, I will look down the path and see you walking toward me. I can see you so clearly, my beloved. The last rays of the setting sun shining upon your golden hair, your eyes bright with the love that fills my own heart.
You will come to me.
I will fold you in my arms.
We will close our eyes and begin to dream our eternal dream.

 

How Quiet is the Midnight Lord Soth's Song

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Set aside the buried light
Of candle, torch, and rotting wood,
And listen to the turn of night
Caught in your rising blood.

How quiet is the midnight, love,
How warm the winds where the ravens fly,
Where all the changing moonlight, love,
Pales in your fading eye.


 

How loud your heart is calling, love,
How close the darkness at your breast,
How hectic are the rivers, love,
Drawn through your dying wrist.

And love, what heat your frail skin hides,
As pure as salt, as sweet as death,
And in the dark the red moon rides
The foxfire of your breath.


 

Wedding Song A Reprise

But you and I, through the burning plains,
through darkness of the earth,
affirm the world, its people,
the heavens that gave them birth,
the breath that passes between us,
this new home where we stand,
and all those things made larger by
the vows between woman and man.

 
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