MICHAEL DRAYTON

Yet have we well begun ; Battles so bravely won Have ever to the sun

By fame been raised.

1 And for myself (quoth he) This my full rest shall be: England ne'er mourn for me

Nor more esteem me: 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,

Under our swords they fell :

No less our skill is Than when our grandsire great, Claiming the regal seat, 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

On the false Frenchmen !

They now to fight are gone, Armour on armour shone, Drum now to drum did groan,

To hear was wonder;

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