1. We warriors, while our steed its youth still keeps
Until, supported by his staff, decrepit creeps,

2. Will mourn when missing hands that held the lance,
And friends will know us by our fluent speech.

3. The sword knows we are brethren true and tried
When clashing on bare bones its edge is plied,

4. And we're more cherished in your ladies' hearts
Than you, when earliest breaks the wail at dawn.