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CRECY

(1346)

The refrain of the poem is founded on Froissart, who says that, when asked to send reinforcements to his son the Black Prince, the King replied: 'Is my son dead, unhorsed, or so badly wounded that he cannot support himself?' 'Nothing of the sort, thank God,' rejoined the knight, 'but he is in so hot an engagement that he has great need of your help.' 'Now Sir Thomas,' answered the King, 'return to those that sent you, and tell them from me not to send again for me this day, nor expect that I shall come, let what will happen, as long as my son has life; and say that I command them to let the boy win his spurs, for I am determined, if it please God, that all the glory of this day shall be given to him, and to those into whose care I have entrusted him.' The knight returned to his lords and related the King's answer, which mightily encouraged them, and made them repent they had ever sent such a message.

AT Crecy by Somme in Ponthieu
High up on a windy hill

A mill stands out like a tower;
King Edward stands on the mill.
The plain is seething below

As Vesuvius seethes with flame,
But O not with fire, but gore,
Earth incarnadined o'er,

Crimson with shame and with fame:

To the King run the messengers, crying
Thy Son is hard-press'd to the dying!

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Let alone: for to-day will be written in story
To the great world's end, and for ever:
So let the boy have the glory.'

Erin and Gwalia there

With England are rank'd against France;
Outfacing the oriflamme red

The red dragons of Merlin advance :-
As a harvest in autumn renew'd

The lances bend o'er the fields;
Snow-thick our arrow-heads white
Level the foe as they light;

Knighthood to yeomanry yields :-
Proud heart, the King watches, as higher
Goes the blaze of the battle, and nigher :-

'To-day is a day will be written in story
To the great world's end, and for ever!
Let the boy alone have the glory.'

Harold at Senlac-on-Sea

By Norman arrow laid low,—

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When the shield-wall was breach'd by the shaft,

-Thou art avenged by the bow!

Chivalry! name of romance!

Thou art henceforth but a name!
Weapon that none can withstand,
Yew in the Englishman's hand,
Flight-shaft unerring in aim!

As a lightning-struck forest the foemen
Shiver down to the stroke of the bowmen:-

-'O to-day is a day will be written in story
To the great world's end, and for ever!
So, let the boy have the glory.'

Pride of Liguria's shore

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Genoa wrestles in vain;

Vainly Bohemia's King

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Kinglike is laid with the slain.

The Blood-lake is wiped out in blood,

The shame of the centuries o'er;

Where the pride of the Norman had sway
The lions lord over the fray,

The legions of France are no more:

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-The Prince to his father kneels lowly; -'His is the battle! his wholly!

'For to-day is a day will be written in story To the great world's end, and for ever:

So, let him have the spurs, and the glory!'

F. T. PALGRAVE.

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15. Erin and Gwalia. The Irish and Welsh contingent, armed with large knives, fell upon earls, barons, knights, and squires who were hampered by the flight of the Genoese bowmen, and slew many.

17. oriflamme. The royal standard of France.

18. dragons of Merlin. The Welsh flag. Merlin was the wizard at the court of King Arthur.

29. Senlac-on-Sea. Battle of Hastings, 1066. See the account in Lytton's Harold.

43. Liguria. The district of Italy whence came the Genoese bowmen.

45. Bohemia's King. The morning after the battle the blind King of Bohemia was found dead in the field with his companions. He had persuaded them to lead him into the fight, with bridles tied together, that he might strike one blow for France and chivalry.

47. Blood-lake (Senlac). Battle of Hastings.

WAT TYLER'S SONG

(1381)

The first two lines of this poem are contemporary; they were used as a party cry by John Ball, one of the leaders in the 'Peasants' Revolt' of 1381. The peasants demanded the abolition of serfdom, the liberty to buy or sell at fairs and markets free of taxes, and the fixing of their rent at a certain amount per acre.

[See Green's Short History, pp. 250-2.]

'WHEN Adam delved and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman ?'

Wretched is the infant's lot,
Born within the straw-roof'd cot;
Be he generous, wise, or brave,
He must only be a slave.
Long, long labour, little rest,
Still to toil to be oppressed;
Drain'd by taxes of his store,
Punished next for being poor:
This is the poor wretch's lot,
Born within the straw-roof'd cot.

While the peasant works,-to sleep,
What the peasant sows,-to reap,
On the couch of ease to lie,

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Still to hold despotic rule,

Trampling on his slaves with scorn!
This is to be nobly born.

'When Adam delved and Eve span,
Who was then the gentleman ?

I. delved] dug.

R. SOUTHEY.

Oxford: Horace Hart, Printer to the University

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LYRA HISTORICA

POEMS OF BRITISH HISTORY

A.D. 61-1910

SELECTED BY

M. E. WINDSOR

AND

J. TURRAL

PART II: 1388—1641

OXFORD

AT THE CLARENDON PRESS

1911

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