In the house where I was born
We tied our laces in the dark
Then shuffled down the stairs without a lamp.
We breathed a foggy whisper
On a window webbed with frost
And we swore, and we swore,
And we swore the vows of knighthood every day.
In the house where I was born
We ate our breakfast standing up;
The better for to make the swill go down.
We dipped the dripping ladle,
Closed our eyes and swallowed hard
And we swore, and we swore,
And we swore the vows of knighthood every day.
Gravity, brevity, granite and lead,
War bread and horseflesh, a pillar of salt,
Tilt yard, curtain wall, tallow on slate,
Crossed swords with diamonds; Et monstro fides.
In the house where I was born
We swept the dirt beneath the rug,
Then nailed its ragged edges to the floor.
We strapped our monkish duties
Hemp and leather to our backs
And we swore...
CUM ET PIUS VIRTUTIS (With devout courage
ET SUPPLEX VIRES And humble strength
NOS PAREBIMUS DOMINUS We serve our lord
ET MONSTRO FIDES Faithfully)
Categories:
vires, dedication, history,
Form: Blank verse