Thoughts On a Medaeval Castle

'Tis a merry company gathered about the fire Comfortably warm, at their tables they dine Under the spell of a beautiful lyre In the great hall, under the castle spire Enjoying immensely their vittles and wine 'Tis a merry company gathered about the fire Chatting with ease as the torches burn higher Bathed in the scent of the burning of pine Under the spell of a beautiful lyre Their laughter is ready, and wit does not tire It only grows greater at hours after nine 'Tis a merry company gathered about the fire Flick and the dart of the shadows inspire Tales, ere the dawn of the even's decline Under the spell of a beautiful lyre Their thoughts and their words, do we dare to inquire? Perhaps if we could there were riches to mine 'Tis a merry company gathered about the fire Under the spell of a beautiful lyre