“One” proclaims the king,

one sir and none more,

hast died for his home,
in this unholy war.

 

“Two” sayeth the Lord,

up in the skies,

I has’t counted two men,

yond did drop dead like flies.

 

“Three” claims the saint,

halo ’round his head,

three gentle young boys,

ere they did wed

 

“Why allow us pray”,

did suggest both squires,

“we might not but pray f’r our brothers,

all night, ’till we tire”.