I wont that my stand was the highest guard,
helmet feathered, Honor Watch, beside The Tree.
This level up from the Livery, lacks all dignity.
Not noble born, no chance at valor, I stand my post.
Heeding his call, I quicken my pace.
Lord Faramir needs his horse battle laden!
Thankful, at last, I can serve my Lord,
if only making ready for war.
Pale and sullen his countenance.
Only a gesture, a nod, for his thanks.
The company is ready to ride out.
I wish, I too, could ride to victory
Standing now again at my post,
I see them charge!
How I long for glorious battle.
Perhaps one day I shall fight.
Oh! My heart! What horror, This can not be!
Under the darkened sky they fall!
My Lord! My Lord! Oh woe is me!
Lord Faramir! Lord Faramir!
The Gates! He Returns! The Gates!
How fool hearty I am, no glory lay there?
Slaughter, murder, war, and pain.
Oh here, over the Livery, I hope to remain.
Our General gone, our Captain almost slain.
Who now can keep us free?
Would that we had a King.