In Linda's fair heart dwelt I,
For three score days and five.
To every dream and hope did I
Aim to please and standard strive.

THis fine maid, her mane so fair
Did crave by her immortal true
Honour, truth and one who'd care
At night, at work, when no-one's there.

But Gods don't age, so nor could I
To sword and hell now go I
To match the dream I dared defy.
With history bent, she can deny
I was the God who could not die.