He lies amid the hushed and silent court,
The faded lilies still within his hand;
And with his weary, dying eyes he sees
The sword of Constantine above his head,
Giving, at last, the royal accolade,
While the King’s face is full of yearning love;
And with his dying ears he hears the words,
That he has bravely striven to resign,
“Sir Christalan, my True and Valiant knight,”

And then the murmur from the assembled court,
“Sir Christalan, the Valiant and the True;
God speed the soul of our beloved knight,
Sir Christalan, the Valiant and the True.”