Their scales upon the sand Therewith to pave the mould So herself to behold As in her glasses. On thy bank When she looks out by night, As wond'ring at her eyes In all our Brittany There's not a fairer, Nor can you fit any Should you compare her. Angels her eyelids keep, All hearts surprising; Which look whilst she doth sleep Like the sun's rising: She alone of her kind Knoweth true measure, And her unmatched mind Is heaven's treasure. On thy bank .. Fair Dove and Darwen clear, And the Peak mountains ; Humble as is the stream Which by her slideth. Yet my poor rustic Muse Never can number. On thy bank, In a rank, Let thy swans sing her, And with their music Along let them bring her. 119. FAIR Agincourt 'AIR stood the wind for France When we our sails advance, Nor now to prove our chance Longer will tarry; But putting to the main, At Caux, the mouth of Seine, Yet have we well begun; By fame been raisèd. Victor I will remain Or on this earth lie slain, Never shall she sustain Loss to redeem me. 'Poitiers and Cressy tell, When most their pride did swell, Than when our grandsire great, By many a warlike feat Lopp'd the French lilies.' The Duke of York so dread The eager vaward led; With the main Henry sped Among his henchmen. Excester had the rear, A braver man not there; O Lord, how hot they were They now to fight are gone, To hear was wonder; That with the cries they make Well it thine age became, When from a meadow by, Stuck the French horses. With Spanish yew so strong, None from his fellow starts, Stuck close together. When down their bows they threw, And forth their bilbos drew, And on the French they flew, Not one was tardy; Arms were from shoulders sent, This while our noble king, bilbos] swords, from Bilboa. |