Winter sun is shining down.
Its shadows long forlorn.
The grene knyght rises to the ridge.
And blows his hunting horn.
Harken to the witches' rune.
Liege lord guards the land.
Defender of the ancient realm.
He rules with oaken hands.
Castle keep of earth and stone.
His banner branches green.
Crown of stars rests upon.
A troubled brow of dreams.
Sigil of the seasons change.
Worn proud 'pon his breast.
The grene knyght tends to this his realm.
Tireless without rest.
Earth and mound at standing stone.
The Green Knight's oaken throne.
Armour of dark gilded green.
Shield of root and bone.
Bow of ash and sword of stone.
Kings of barley grown.
Endless stands his vigil lone.
Defends his hearth and home.
Grene Knyght
Black Magician
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