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 | The Works of Thomas Love Peacock |  |
Poor Harry the Sixth,
hustled, beaten, and prest,
Had his nosegay of lilies soon torn from his breast;
And, though Margaret, to shield him, had clasped him around,
From her arms he was shaken, and hurled to the ground;
While Edward of York flourished over his head
The rose's pale blossoms, and trampled the red;
Though Warwick strove vainly the ill to repair,
And set fallen Henry again on his chair.
Had his nosegay of lilies soon torn from his breast;
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From her arms he was shaken, and hurled to the ground;
While Edward of York flourished over his head
The rose's pale blossoms, and trampled the red;
Though Warwick strove vainly the ill to repair,
And set fallen Henry again on his chair.
| The Works of Thomas Love Peacock | |