The poetical works of John Nicholson ... Carefully edited from the original editions, with additional notes and a sketch of his life and writings. By W. G. Hird |
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 | The poetical works of John Nicholson |  |
The Earl of March, Plantagenet's true heir,
From Pont'fract came, and all his host was there;
At Ferrybridge the great Fitzwalter stood,
The pass to guard o'er Aire's fine rolling flood.
Northumberland and Clifford knew the plan,
And Somerset, the brave, the loyal man,
Led on his files—but fierce and short the fray—
Fitzwalter fell before the break of day:
High as the battlements were heaped the slain,
And few could meet at Pontefract again.
To Edward's camp the noble Warwick rode,
Then drew his sword, long, shining, sharp and broad,
Vowed from his monarch he would never part,
Then plunged the weapon to his charger's heart;
Which showed that for his monarch and his right,
On foot great Warwick never feared to fight.
Edward proclaimed, “Does any soldier fear?
Let such return, nor spread infection here;
March forth, ye brave, whose souls with valour burn,
Cowards, fall back, and you that fear return!
All you who fight, and me, your king, regard,
Shall each one find a bountiful reward:
But should a coward, when we meet in fight,
Turn from the foe, to save himself by flight,
Whoever shall such trembling dastard slay,
Shall be promoted when we gain the day.”
From Pont'fract came, and all his host was there;
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The pass to guard o'er Aire's fine rolling flood.
Northumberland and Clifford knew the plan,
And Somerset, the brave, the loyal man,
Led on his files—but fierce and short the fray—
Fitzwalter fell before the break of day:
High as the battlements were heaped the slain,
And few could meet at Pontefract again.
To Edward's camp the noble Warwick rode,
Then drew his sword, long, shining, sharp and broad,
Vowed from his monarch he would never part,
Then plunged the weapon to his charger's heart;
Which showed that for his monarch and his right,
On foot great Warwick never feared to fight.
Edward proclaimed, “Does any soldier fear?
Let such return, nor spread infection here;
March forth, ye brave, whose souls with valour burn,
Cowards, fall back, and you that fear return!
All you who fight, and me, your king, regard,
Shall each one find a bountiful reward:
But should a coward, when we meet in fight,
Turn from the foe, to save himself by flight,
Whoever shall such trembling dastard slay,
Shall be promoted when we gain the day.”
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |