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Never shall man take me hence |
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But only he by whose side |
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I ought to hang and he shall |
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Be the best knight in the world |
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Never shall man take me hence |
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But only he by whose side |
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I ought to hang and he shall |
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Be the best knight in the world |
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Taken from the castle feast |
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To an abbey in the East |
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Three knights stood in pride as one |
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Lancelot beheld his son |
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Arthur's court, he bade him come |
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Galahad his bastard son |
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Battles soon for him to fight |
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Blessed his youthful son a knight |
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Arthur and the knights' marvellous stone |
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Floating upon the river alone |
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Pointing from the rock, the sword shining bright |
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Glittering jewels, shimmering light |
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Pull me, pull me, pull me, pull me |
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Gawain first he tried to draw from the stone |
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To wear by his side |
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Each knight took his turn, brave to the last |
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Faced with the sword remaining fast |
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Arthur called a knight young Galahad |
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Saw in his sheath no sword he had |
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Took him where the sword held by the stone |
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Offered him there to make it his own |
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Pull me, pull me, pull me, pull me |
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He fell on his knees to pull out the hilt |
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And drew it with ease |
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The dolorous stroke it was struck with pride |
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The sword that once hung by Sir Balan's side |
