University of Virginia Library

Regret not, dear ladies, the fate of the brave,
Who fight for the king and the fair;
A halo of glory encircles their grave,
And fame wets each corse with a tear!
They feared not the trumpet, the bugle, or drum,
The banners or swords of their foes;
But their watchword was, “Let all our enemies come,
We soon will each phalanx enclose!”
Their armour was bright when they rode forth at morn;
Their spirits were never dismayed;
The spears on the shoulders of warriors were borne,
And high were the banners displayed.
The strains of the trumpets were, “Edward, our king!”
The song was, “Long life to the brave!”
And next I could hear the young warriors sing,
“For vict'ry, or death and the grave!”

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Then weep not, dear ladies, your lords are asleep,
All peaceful they know not your cares;
Drive anguish away, 'tis too late now to weep,
For their spirits departed in pray'rs.