The Black Knight

THE BLACK KNIGHT

Birthed to privilege and stature he entered life’s fair stage,
Raised royal with entourage he was Henry’s favored Page.
The capture of Berwick upon Tweed brought knighthood as ought,
And later, Vice-Constable of England fulfilled his lot.

He did not lack in courage, nor forsake his men in sway,
His bravery each day, like he, were always on display.
He moved through peers, with manners dear, a gentleman demure,
But, for the Marigold, he boldly tormented the poor.

Bereft of tender mercies toward peasants in the field,
The Black knight’s scorn brought torture born ‘pon all that he had killed.
No tithe could acquiesce or sooth his gnashing ire,
Sprung from the Earth he claimed their birth as kindling in the fire.

The fear he spread, such awful dread, dispersed in every prayer,
When his death came no blame was sought and none, in truth, despaired.
Each Easter Monday depicts how Sir Ralph de Assheton died,
In Ashton under Lyne, the Black Lad makes his final ride.