Decima: “I bend my knee before my lord”

I bend my knee before my lord,
Or at a lovely lady’s feet,
To take her hand with kisses sweet,
To give the king my loyal sword;
For them a knee I can afford.
But now I stand and shall not yield,
Though you have caused my blood to flow
With savage strike and mortal blow;
The bards may say you won the field,
But none may claim that I have kneeled.