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I am a Lord's attendant,

A soldier's loyal kin,

To my master dear,

Companion to my king.

A queen on me sometimes,

Nobly, swears an oath.

I hold in my possession,

The latch to a grave.

My tongue is firm,

Yet oft I, to the poet,

A loan of words

Give for his verse.

Faultless is my form,

And noble is my cause,

Yet in the hands of some

Deathly is my touch