Pearls of Lutra Quotes

Picture byPsychoAngel51402
O curse the name Mad Eyes,/Say woe to the day/When he tried to steal/Tears of all Oceans away./All corsairs and searats/Whose messmates lie dead,/Saw blood and hot flame/Turn the seas flowing red./Though northcoast lies far/And the ocean is wide,/Run from the green arrows/Of vengeance, and hide./For the price of six tears/Through the dreams of us all,/Walks the fear of a warrior/From the place called Redwall./Now the life of our Brethren/Who followed the sea,/Will ne’er be the same/For such rovers as we./‘Twas the greed of a tyrant/That brought us to shame,/Six tears for a crown--/Curse the emperor’s name!

"Dead and gone, no, gone to be dead,/ Following the crack that runs through his head."

"This is war! Cut 'er loose, Rocpaw, 'tis waaaaaar!"

"Run from me, hide from me,/ Still my shafts will find you./ All you vermin of the sea,/ I must bring swift death to./ Lutra's Holt has not yet gone,/ By my bow I swear it so,/ I alone will carry on,/ Wreaking vengeance where I go./ Run from me, hide from me,/ Hear my longbow singing,/ Grath of Lutra's family,/ Sleep to you is bringing."

"Golden guardian of my wealth,/ Hear me now, be still,/ Deathly fang and coiling stealth,/ Bend unto my will."

"Just you give the word when yer ready, an' I'll show ye the color of yer insides!"

"I’m the babe of a bloodripper,/Born in the teeth of a gale,/I’m the one who wields a sword,/An’ makes the foebeast wail./I’m as sharp as the reef rock,/I carry death in me paw,/Go were I like, slay who I will,/

That’s the corsairs law!/Blood’s me favorite color,/I’m swifter’n lightnin’ aye,/Stand out me way, stand out I say,/Step aside now, or die!/‘Cos I’m the spawn O’ nightstorm,/An’ death sails in me wake,/I sheath me blade in innards,/An’ what I want, I take!/Come one, come all, I’m waitin’,/I’ll flay your carcass bare,/So everyplace I go they’ll say,/“Ahoy, you bold corsaaaaiiiirrrrrr!"

The vermin laughed and cheered as he twiddled a tune on his melodeon, singing in a cracked baritone, "Would yer plunder from yer mother?/Yes I would, yes I would,/For me mother always said I was no good./I'm a searat bred an' born,/An' I'm sailin' in the morn,/Stan' aside, me lucky buckoes, let me go!/Cut me teeth upon a cutlass/Yes I did, yes I did,/An' me pore ole daddy ran away an' hid,/Sayin', "That's no child o' mine,/Let 'im sail across the brine,/Stan' aside now for the vermin, let 'im go!"/If there's plunder in the offin'/That's fer me, that's fer me,/An' I never charge, I'll kill you all for free,/Give me lots o' lovely loot,/An' a cask o' grog ter boot,/Up the anchor, loose the sails an' let me go!"

"Whether she sails on river or sea,/May the wind be always behind her,/May she always be welcomed by friends like me,/May the foebeast never find her./Let her crew hold the lives of each other dear,/And avoid every sharp rock or reef,/Good seasons and fates now listen and hear,/Keep this gallant Freebeast from all grief!"

"Of all the creatures in the land,/The sea or in the air,/Not one of 'em is half so grand,/Or as noble as a hare./A hare can jump, a hare can run,/He don't live down a hole,/In fact a hare's a lot more fun,/Than almost any mole./A hare's courageous and so brave,/Good-mannered and quite courtly,/Sometimes he's serious and grave,/But never fat, just portly./He never puts a footpaw wrong,/His disposition's sunny,/With ears so elegant and long,/Not stubby like a bunny./So sing his praises everywhere,/This creature bold, with charm to spare,/The one thing better than a hare,/Is two hares, that's a pair!"

"Hmph! Good job I'm polite an' withdrawn too, not like these otter types, brash common wallahs. Still, what can one expect of a creature with funny little ears an' a tail like a bally plank."

Craklyn whirled her bushy tail fiercely. "Aye, and when we do we'll stuff 'em down the throats of those scum who kidnapped our friends, one by one!" Friar Higgle crept smiling from the infirmary, murmuring, "Very nice for young abbeymaids, charmin'."

Unfolding it, she read aloud, "There is a warrior,/Where is a sword?/Peace did he bring,/The fighting Lord. /Shed for him is my fifth tear./Find it in the title here,/Written in but a single word,/And eye is an eye, until it is heard."

“There was an otter be a stream,/Come ringle dum o lady,/Who fell asleep and had a dream,/All on the bank so shady./He dreamt the stream was made of wine,/It flowed along so merry,/And when he drank it tasted fine,/Like plum and elderberry./And all the banks were made of cake,/Come ringle ding my dearie,/As nice as any cook could bake,/That otter felt quite cheery./He drank and ate with right good will,/Till wakened by his daughter./She said, ‘I hope you’ve had your fill,/Of mud and cold streamwater!’/Come ringle doo fol doodle day,/Come wisebeast or come witty,/A fool who dreams to dine that way,/Must waken to self-pity.”

"Oh, that's a great help. I thought you were going to tell us all something intelligent for a moment there!"

“If Sister Cicely serves some soup,/She’ll surely see some sup it,/Swig it swift, sure and slick,/Should it set stiff ‘n’slimy, then suck it./If Cicely suspects that such soup has been scorned,/She’ll slip slyly in and even the score,/So if Sister persists, woe to him that resists,/Cicely’s certain to serve him some more."

Baring his yellowed teeth, the searat spat on the ground. "I ain't talkin' to nobeast an' you can't make me!" With startling speed, Grath leaped over the fire, landed in a crouch facing Gowja and fixed him, eye to eye. Her voice was dangerous, like the growl of thunder on a far horizon. "Keep lookin' at me, scum, and don't dare blink! I am Grath Longfletch of Holt Lutra, the only one of my tribe left alive after yore kind visited my home. When I've eaten my vittles you'll talk t'me, in fact I'll wager you'll make a babblin' brook seem dumb by the time I'm finished with you!"


“Sad winds sweep the shores,/Near a place called Holt Lutra,/Where first I saw daylight the day I was born,/And lone seabirds call/O’er the grave of them all,/Whilst my tears mingle into the seas as I mourn./

For those Tears of all Oceans,/Six pearls like pink rosebuds,/Once plucked from the waters beneath the deep main,/Oh my father, oh my mother/Dear sisters and brothers,/In the gray light of dawn all my family were slain./They sailed in by nightdark,/Those cold heartless vermin,/Their pity as scant as a midwinter’s breath,/Then laughing and jeering/As slashing and spearing,/My kinfolk were slaughtered by wavescum to death./But there greatest mistake was,/They left Lutra’s daughter,/I swore then an oath that the seasons would show,/My Green arrows flying,/And seavermin dying,/Cursing with their last breath the swift song of my bow./So vengeance will drive me,/As long as my paw’s strong,/To sharpen a shaft and my bowstring to stretch,/The price vermin paid,/For six pearls in a raid,/Is that death bears the same name as I, Grath Longfletch.”

"Let the birds fly high before us,/An' our wake trail straight behind./When yore heart is yearnin' for it,/Home is not too hard to find./May our way be bright an' sunny,/Back to where the campfires burn,/There our friends an' families waitin',/For the warriors to return./Are the old ones happily livin'/An' the young ones tall an' grown?/We will soon see smilin' faces,/Of all those we've always known./Far we've travelled, long we've wandered,/Morn till night an' dusk to dawn,/But there's no place we'll rest easy,/Save the land where we were born."