Post by ritefoot on Aug 25, 2011 12:59:13 GMT -5
*posted in the inns of the main towns and written in common in a light flowing hand. It reads well in a clippedy clop meter. It is signed with a muddy horse shoe mark in the bottom corner.*
Sir Herk is on parade.
And so from all is said.
Fear not no man nor maid.
It’s the stable he doth raid.
Now if you would say nay.
If horse think twice you may.
Before you take your hay.
He strikes both night and day.
At joust he has been.
Mounded to the green.
A lance for to did lean.
Where light has not been seen.
But watch you on the road.
This robber knight without code.
In words as he has told
Hides behind family gold.
He marks his house’s pride.
To pay for his next ride.
If think you that I lied.
Then show him your backside.
So if he dares to show his face.
Talk to him might feel base.
‘Tell me if you would your grace,
Who you fancy in the race?’
Ritefoot.
Sir Herk is on parade.
And so from all is said.
Fear not no man nor maid.
It’s the stable he doth raid.
Now if you would say nay.
If horse think twice you may.
Before you take your hay.
He strikes both night and day.
At joust he has been.
Mounded to the green.
A lance for to did lean.
Where light has not been seen.
But watch you on the road.
This robber knight without code.
In words as he has told
Hides behind family gold.
He marks his house’s pride.
To pay for his next ride.
If think you that I lied.
Then show him your backside.
So if he dares to show his face.
Talk to him might feel base.
‘Tell me if you would your grace,
Who you fancy in the race?’
Ritefoot.