Eada

No one understands running as you do

It is not merely a task you complete

Nor a hard role rehearsed and played on cue

For it is what you are; none can compete

Distance is not a word to worry you

Fatigue is profanity in your tongue;

To you, the sand was as the grass to dew

Your races made my grandfather feel young

The flashing swords of battle made you dance

That bloody tumult never gave you pause

You were the hero of that grim romance;

And on your back, I fought for your good cause

With you, all speed freezes, all grace lies still

What you cannot bear, my memory will