Far liefer had I gird his harness on him,
And ride with him to battle and stand by,
And watch his mightful hand striking great blows 95
At caitiffs and at wrongers of the world.
Far better were I laid in the dark earth,
Not hearing any more his noble voice,
Not to be folded more in these dear arms,
And darken’d from the high light in his eyes, 100
Than that my lord through me should suffer shame.
Am I so bold, and could I so stand by,