Classic Poem

The Knights rode up with gifts for the King,
And one was a jewelled sword,
And one was a suit of golden mail,
And one was a golden Word.

He has buckled the shining armour on;
He has girt the sword at his side;
He has flung at his feet the golden Word,
And trampled it in his pride.

The armour is pierced with many spears,
And the brand is breaking in twain;
But the Word has risen in storm and fire,
To vanquish and to reign.