Our Good Knight, Ted, Girds His Broadsword On (And He Wields It Well, I Ween); He 'S On His Steed, And Away Has Gone To The Fight For King And Queen. What Tho' No Edge The Broadsword Hath? What Tho' The Blade Be Made Of Lath? 'T Is A Valiant Hand That Wields The Brand, So, Foeman, Clear The Path! He Prances Off At A Goodly Pace; 'T Is A Noble Steed He Rides, That Bears As Well In The Speedy Race As He Bears In Battle-Tides. What Tho' 'T Is But A Rocking-Chair That Prances With This Stately Air? 'T Is A Warrior Bold The Reins Doth Hold, Who Bids All Foes Beware!