The beauty of a sword of steel
Is not a red pommel stone,
Nor the blade that is gilt
Or the crosstrees of the hilt
Made of ivory or bone.
Nay, covered in the finest leather
Or laden with diamond pure,
All fair gems of the earth,
And immeasurable worth,
But nay, none of that will endure.
True beauty in a blade of steel
Is how it is used in the fight.
To protect and defend
Until the very end
And always to hold to the right.