Légendes Arthuriennes et autres

Sir Lancelot

A curl of coal upon noble brow
Strong and tall and proud
Courageous and true
The Sir Lancelot
But O the woe he knew!

Strides, swaggers and boasts doth he
Daring, bold and wild
The champion of charm
Sir Lancelot
With a wench on either arm

A man of battle, born and bred
Deadly as an adder
Built for war
Was Sir Lancelot
Peace but a distant star

Clad in armour, far from shining
Swords strapped to either side
Helmet plumed and masking
The death-sick visage behind
Sir Knight; there be lives for taking

But beneath the man and beneath the knight
There lay a slave's poor heart
Enslaved to a cause not his own
Miles and years from home
O despairing Lancelot!

Fought battles not chosen, doth he
Against enemies who slighted not
Lost brothers and spirit and heart
Long for freedom, Sir Lancelot
But 'tis always more foes to thwart

His destiny and purpose clear
Bloodied fields and bloodied brothers
In a bleeding land
To fight the fray through it all
With tired blood-stained hands

Cry for him, fair maidens
Shed jeweled shining tears
For though he knew his grievous fate
He was 'til end a loyal knight
Noble Sir Lancelot the Great