The Passing
It was twenty years ago
Pennons waving I faced my foe
Sword held high I beat him down
And left him there on bloody ground
Now I am weak and very old
My hair is gray; my skin is pale
My blood is thin and I am frail.
Was it twelve long years ago
The king called I had to go
His edict I could not deny
When heathens to our shores did fly
Now I am weak and very old….
Is that day ten years past
I traveled far; I traveled fast
I traveled over land and sea
To make Jerusalem be free
Now I am weak and very old…
It’s seven years since my love died
She was my one and only bride
She bore me four strong sons so well
Then she left me alone and ill
Now I am weak and very old…
Listen to my story son
With broad shoulders and strong arms
Raise your sword; strap on your shield
Unto you these lands I yield
©2002 Rita Nauman
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