Gahart’s Counsel

I’ll waste no word. No bard am I.

Righter than Roman road must lie

The trail we travel till we die;

The Knights’ Road.

Meet you a maiden passing fair?

No husband, father, guardian there?

She is your prize, your jewel rare,

On the Knights’ Road.

To church with others wend your way

To bend and bow, to plead and pray.

But to your sword true worship pay

On the Knights’ Road.

Upon your way you hear a cry?

Rush to respond! There’s riches nigh.

Gold or girl will satisfy,

On the Knights’ Road.

Victor, slaver not to slay.

You’ll have debts enough to pay

Should you ever lose the day,

On the Knights’ Road.

Follow faithfully your King,

For in his gift lies everything

That war may win or bards may sing,

On the Knights’ Road.

Beneath your breastplate beats a heart

That laughs and longs and breaks apart

Withered, withdrawn. Walk, by this art,

The Knights’ Road.