Bole ponjis. Containing The tale of the buccaneer ... and other ingredients (Google eBook)

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Page 249 - Clarence, in steel so bright, Though but a maiden knight, Yet in that furious fight Scarce such another. Warwick in blood did wade, Oxford the foe invade, And cruel slaughter made Still as they ran up; Suffolk his axe did ply, Beaumont and Willoughby Bare them right doughtily, Ferrers and Fanhope.
Page 239 - Which he neglects the while, As from a nation vile, Yet, with an angry smile, Their fall portending. And turning to his men, Quoth our brave Henry then : "Though they to one be ten, Be not amazed; Yet have we well begun, Battles so bravely won Have ever to the sun By fame been raised. "And for myself," quoth he, "This my full rest shall be; England ne'er mourn for me, Nor more esteem me.
Page 244 - They now to fight are gone; Armour on armour shone; Drum now to drum did groan To hear was wonder; That with the cries they make The very earth did shake; Trumpet to trumpet spake, Thunder to thunder.
Page 247 - With Spanish yew so strong, Arrows a cloth-yard long, That like to serpents stung, Piercing the weather. None from his fellow starts, But playing manly parts, And like true English hearts, Stuck close together. When down their bows they threw, And forth their bilboes drew, And on the French they flew, Not one was tardy ; Arms were from shoulders sent, Scalps to the teeth were rent ; Down the French peasants went : Our men were hardy.
Page 227 - FAIR 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, With all his martial train, Landed King Harry.
Page 214 - CLANO, clang ! the massive anvils ring ; Clang, clang ! a hundred hammers swing Like the thunder-rattle of a tropic sky, The mighty blows still multiply Clang, clang ! Say, brothers of the dusky brow, What are your strong arms forging now t Clang, clang ! we forge the coulter now The coulter of the kindly plough.
Page 250 - Warwick in blood did wade, Oxford the foe invade, And cruel slaughter made Still as they ran up: Suffolk his axe did ply, Beaumont and Willoughby Bare them right doughtily, Ferrers and Fanhope. Upon Saint Crispin's day...
Page 231 - To the king sending. Which he neglects the while, As from a nation vile, Yet with an angry smile Their fall portending. And turning to his men, Quoth our brave Henry then, Though they to one be ten, Be not amazed.
Page 247 - Gloster, that Duke so good, Next of the royal blood, For famous England stood With his brave brother; Clarence, in steel so bright, Though but a maiden knight, Yet in that furious fight, Scarce such another. Warwick...
Page 216 - Say on what sands these links shall sleep, Fathoms beneath the solemn deep ? By Afric's pestilential shore? By many an iceberg, lone and hoar By many a palmy western isle, Basking in spring's perpetual smile ? By stormy Labrador...

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