My dearest is a lady, and she wears a gown of blue;
She sits beside the window, where the yellow sun comes through;
The light is shining on her hair, and all the while she sews
She sings a song about a knight—a brave, good knight she knows.
My dearest is a lady,—and O, I love her well!
Full five and twenty times a day this very tale I tell;
For I’m the knight in armor—a shield and sword I wear;
And mother is my lady, with the light upon her hair.