The Knight

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Our good knight, Ted, girds his broadsword on
  (And he wields it well, I ween);
  He 's on his steed, and away has gone
  To the fight for king and queen.
  What tho' no edge the broadsword hath?
  What tho' the blade be made of lath?
  'T is a valiant hand
  That wields the brand,
  So, foeman, clear the path!

  He prances off at a goodly pace;
  'T is a noble steed he rides,
  That bears as well in the speedy race
  As he bears in battle-tides.
  What tho' 't is but a rocking-chair
  That prances with this stately air?
  'T is a warrior bold
  The reins doth hold,
  Who bids all foes beware!

© Paul Laurence Dunbar