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 |  |
Now the last effort of King Henry's host
Was such as warlike Britons never met,
Upon the plain they twenty thousand lost,
And those that fled, before were never beat.
The red rose fell before Prince Edward's force;
And when the storm was o'er, and clear the sky,
Of Henry's host was neither foot nor horse—
Terror, confusion, panic, made them fly.
Now evening came, and sorrow's darkest shade
Shrouded the lovely features of the fair;
Cold in their gore near forty thousand laid,
And many a brave young warrior was there.
Then ladies' cheeks were wet with many a tear,
And for their souls' release the Friars prayed;
All England mourned—e'en those that gained the fight,
Sighed o'er the slain, so awful was the sight!
Was such as warlike Britons never met,
Upon the plain they twenty thousand lost,
And those that fled, before were never beat.
The red rose fell before Prince Edward's force;
And when the storm was o'er, and clear the sky,
Of Henry's host was neither foot nor horse—
Terror, confusion, panic, made them fly.
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Shrouded the lovely features of the fair;
Cold in their gore near forty thousand laid,
And many a brave young warrior was there.
Then ladies' cheeks were wet with many a tear,
And for their souls' release the Friars prayed;
All England mourned—e'en those that gained the fight,
Sighed o'er the slain, so awful was the sight!
| The poetical works of John Nicholson | |