Of Me, the Champion Knight;
Meanwhile, on caitiffs who would keep
The pledge we bade them burke,
My lusty battle-cry shall leap:—
'God and our Right to Shirk!'"
The scrap was over. There he lay
Prone on the reeking grass;
"Simon," his faint lips strove to say,
"Somebody's sold the pass!"
"True," said the other; "I descry