But with a shiver of his spine,
And a glint of fresh steel,
The Knight reared up high.
Death was his to deal.
So he struck out a blow,
Hoping to drive the brute back,
But even though his sword was sharp,
the Wyrm brushed off the attack.
And so it reared up even higher,
With a neck that reached the sky.
And with a rumble in his gullet,
Roasted the poor guy.