Classic Poem

My friends, I may no longer ride with you
To bear a sword in your brave company,
Or follow our poor tattered flag which knew
No shame or slur — or any victory.

But this at least, with courage and with mirth
We starveling poets and enthusiasts
Have shirked no battle for the stricken earth
Against its tyrants' spears and arbalests.

And though I go to guard another sign,
These things, please God, shall stand and never slip —
(O friends of mine, O splendid friends of mine!)
Honour and Freedom and Goodfellowship,
On which and on your ragged chivalry
I always think with proud humility.