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Sir Galahad

Taken from the castle feast

To an abbey in the East

Three knights stood in pride as one

Lancelot beheld his sonArthur's court he made him come

Galahad his bastard son

Battles soon for him to fight

Blessed his youthful son of knightArthur and the knights, marvelous stone

Floating upon the river alone

Pointing from the rock, the sword shining bright

Glittering jewels, shimmering light

Pull me, pull me, pull me, pull meGawain first he tried to draw from the stone

To wear by his side

Each knight took it's turn, brave to the last

Faced with the sword, remaining fast

[Incomprehensible]Arthur called a knight young Galahad

Saw in his sheath no sword he had

Took him where the sword held by the stone

Offered him there to make it his own

Pull me, pull me, pull meHe fell on his knees, to pull out the hilt

And drew it with ease

The dolorous stroke it once struck with pride

The sword that once hung by Sir Gawain's side

[Incomprehensible]

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