A Metrical History of England Or, Recollections, in Rhyme, Of some of the most prominent Features in our National Chronology, from the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Commencement of the Regency, in 1812. In Two Volumes ... By Thomas Dibdin |
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![]() | A Metrical History of England | ![]() |
53
“The Danes are landed.”
Home.
Home.
ETHELWOLF.
The warwhoop echoes still our Island round,
And, as the surge encroaching on the land,
Gives note of mischief by terrific sound,
Like wave on wave, the robbers crowd to land.
The Danes! The Danes! the young and aged cry,
And mothers “press their infants” as they fly.
And, as the surge encroaching on the land,
Gives note of mischief by terrific sound,
Like wave on wave, the robbers crowd to land.
The Danes! The Danes! the young and aged cry,
And mothers “press their infants” as they fly.
The pirate parties, spreading far and wide,
Avoid our armies, and our powers deride:
Then to their barks return, like loaded bees,
And, with our ravish'd treasure, cross the seas.
Oh, had but then some tight built ships, and tars,
Like modern Trigges, and Trollopes, round them cruised:
How brief had been their predatory wars,
What trouble had my readers been excused!
Avoid our armies, and our powers deride:
Then to their barks return, like loaded bees,
And, with our ravish'd treasure, cross the seas.
54
Like modern Trigges, and Trollopes, round them cruised:
How brief had been their predatory wars,
What trouble had my readers been excused!
O'er Thanet, now the scene of summer mirth,
Where, erst, the world's imperial eagle flew,
Where the white steed on Saxon banners came,
The Danish raven's wing is spread;
And an unsparing and remorseless crew,
By Scandinavian chieftains led,
Demand in Kent to share, with British birth,
“A local habitation and a name.”
While Ethelwolf, who shou'd have made them run,
(As gallic navies since at Nelson's fame),
Gave to Athelstan, as his eldest son,
One half the Kingdom—and ('twas more than shame!)
Instead of watching England's weal at home,
He went on pious pilgrimage to Rome.
To Rome, who having then no arms to rule us,
Deputed Monks to govern and befool us.
And, well I wot, the Pope was glad to see him,
Who paid Priests, Deacons, Choristers and all,
With pockets full of England's gold to fee him,
And purchase lamps for Peter and for Paul .
At home he found affairs had changed their faces;
His first son dead, and Ethelbald, the next,
Usurper of his Sire's and Brother's places,
The former's weakness furnishing pretext.
Where, erst, the world's imperial eagle flew,
Where the white steed on Saxon banners came,
The Danish raven's wing is spread;
And an unsparing and remorseless crew,
By Scandinavian chieftains led,
Demand in Kent to share, with British birth,
“A local habitation and a name.”
While Ethelwolf, who shou'd have made them run,
(As gallic navies since at Nelson's fame),
Gave to Athelstan, as his eldest son,
One half the Kingdom—and ('twas more than shame!)
Instead of watching England's weal at home,
He went on pious pilgrimage to Rome.
To Rome, who having then no arms to rule us,
Deputed Monks to govern and befool us.
55
Who paid Priests, Deacons, Choristers and all,
With pockets full of England's gold to fee him,
And purchase lamps for Peter and for Paul .
At home he found affairs had changed their faces;
His first son dead, and Ethelbald, the next,
Usurper of his Sire's and Brother's places,
The former's weakness furnishing pretext.
Scarce do the Son and Sire the land divide,
When the King feed the Monks once more, and died:
To future reigns the people turn their hope,
And Ethelwolf's regretted—by the Pope.
When the King feed the Monks once more, and died:
To future reigns the people turn their hope,
And Ethelwolf's regretted—by the Pope.
Nothing could be more dreadful than the manner in which these fierce barbarians carried on their incursions; they spared neither age nor sex, and each commander urged the soldiers to inhumanity. Oliver, a celebrated chieftain, gained, from his dislike to the favorite amusement of his soldiers, (that of tossing children on the points of their spears,) the contemptuous surname of Burnakal, or, “the Preserver of Children.” Bartholin.
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