“Who goes there?” He shouted loudly
Sitting on his steed so proudly
“Are you a king’s knight in good stead
Surely not a beggar for bread
Permission is not allowed ye.”
Serving my master devoutly
He sent me here from the foundry
Believe me, please don’t take my head.
“Who goes there?”
Sir, I approach you so cowedly
I know my look may be dowdy
I beseech you, my master said
To bring you this sword made of lead.
“I say, my hearing’s quite cloudy,
Who goes there?”