Over the hilltops of yore
Dressed in French lilies
There rests a knight of days of wore
A knight that can rival Achilles

Once called the Blue Knight
Clad in fine plate armour
Shattered enemies in the night
And saved every farmer

Solid in battle was he
Inspired every man to fight
And feared none did he
Even those who would blight

But ran through a jousting lance
Now revered as a hero in France