s earth lie slain,
Never shall she sustain
Loss to redeem me.

IV.

Poitiers and Cressy tell
When most their pride did swell,
Under our swords they fell;
No less our skill is
Then when our grandsire great,
Claiming the regal seat,
By many a warlike feat
Lopped the French lilies.

V.

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.

VI.

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.

VII.

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,
Scalps to the teeth were rent,
Down the French peasants went--
Our men were hardy.

VIII.

This while our noble king,
His broadsword brandishing,
Down the French host did ding,
As to o'erwhelm it.
And many a deep wound lent
His arms with blood besprent.
And many a cruel dent
Bruised his helmet.

IX.

Upon Saint Crispin' day
Fought was this noble fray.
Which fame did not delay
To England to carry.
O when shall Englishmen
With such acts fill a pen,
Or England breed again
Such a King Harry?

[Illustration: Father Tuck's "GOLDEN GIFT" AND "LITTLE LESSON" SERIES

Uniform with this Volume, and Published at the same Price.]

* * * * *

Transcriber's Note: This edition did not contain a table of contents.
One was created to aid the reader.

End of Project Gutenberg's Royal Children of English History, by E. Nesbit

*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK ROYAL CHILDREN OF ENGLISH HISTORY ***

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