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

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