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Constance De Castile

A Poem, in Ten Cantos. By William Sotheby
Sotheby, William (1757-1833)

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CONSTANCE DE CASTILE.
 I. 
CANTO I.
 II. 
CANTO II.
 III. 
CANTO III.
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CANTO IV.
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CANTO V.
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CANTO VI.
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CANTO VII.
 I. 
I.
 II. 
II.
 III. 
III.
 IV. 
IV.
 V. 
V.
 VI. 
VI.
 VII. 
VII.
 VIII. 
VIII.
 IX. 
IX.
 X. 
X.
 XI. 
XI.
 XII. 
XII.
 XIII. 
XIII.
 XIV. 
XIV.
 XV. 
XV.
 XVI. 
XVI.
 XVII. 
XVII.
 XVIII. 
XVIII.
 XIX. 
XIX.
 XX. 
XX.
 XXI. 
XXI.
 XXII. 
XXII.
 XXIII. 
XXIII.
 XXIV. 
XXIV.
 XXV. 
XXV.
 XXVI. 
XXVI.
 XXVII. 
XXVII.
 XXVIII. 
XXVIII.
 XXIX. 
XXIX.
 XXX. 
XXX.
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CANTO VIII.
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CANTO IX.
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CANTO X.

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XXI.

“To arms”—exclaim'd Lancastria's lord,—
“Warriors! speed on!—unsheath the sword!—
“To arms, to arms!”—at once the train
At Lancaster's high call are gone
From the gay tilting of the plain
To combat on the vext Garonne,
To prove their might by hardihood,
And stain their tourney pomp with blood.
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