Blesséd Knight

He deeply marréd in his present mire,
Not knowing the danger of what binds tight.
See this great knight in sin is but a sire.
Thinking himselfe great and Law out of sight,
He chose to live his life by his own might.
Swourd was his silver and battle his gold,
But it is all winde for Law wins the fight.
The Great Covenaunt rises from of old
To humble man with his true worth of worms and mold.

In the court of Lawe man hath no homage;
Such muck hath no excuse for things so grim.
Resigned to himselfe man is in bondage.
This castigation called for cherubim
To seal fallen man to fiery brim.
All men have failed to meet the Law's gloury,
Subject not to truth but to dungeons dim.
Alas, it is a loathsome hateful story,
for sinne to lash man with weight to make him hoary.

But blessed is this knight for a King reigneth,
Who has humbled Himself in love for men.
Help from the mire is for him who asketh,
But first the King troubles to awaken,
That sourrowed knight who by sleep has taken
Himselfe away to keep from the King's eyes.
Now awake, he sees a body broken
Before him to be received as a prize.
Shaken and afraide he joins Honor's glory cries.

He with a new name and Kingly armour,
Was given graciously a swourd of flame,
To wield in warfare and weld hearts to Wonder.
In battle he was sent as battle came,
Seeking to tell of that great King's great fame.
At a table round lauding this his Lourd,
Forevermore on serf's shield penned His name.
Known to this knight is the strength of King's sword;
He is altogether free but bound in accord.