This man came to me, as the crop I did tend,
But I saw him as he walked across the land,
And stearn was his face, yet a smile he did lend,
Clad in mail with a sword by his hand.
And at this point my father was away
And my brother was setting off to fight,
And my mother, she had left here ere the break of day,
To visit our only neighbour who was ill the gone night.
And this man I’d seen a’ wanderin
Came up to my side,
And though he seemed strange, pondering
As if he knew of war’s tide.
And then he spoke these words to me,
That never forget shall I,
Though old now may my mind be,
And soon am I to die:
“If ever thy heart tells thee,
To take a warriors life
I’d say to it: leave me be,
And thus stay away from strife”
And at that age I wished for a sword,
I wished for the life he had,
And I wished for a loot of a whole dragon’s hord,
And at that point I thought he was mad.
Yet in my days did I heed his word?
No, how foolish was I,
And I have never ny better advice I have heard,
But take it not, I did, so I have seen many friends die.
For though I was young,
I remember him now,
The man with the shimmering sword,
And though I am old
And I am a Lord,
His advice could have saved me
So much pain.