To The Cambro-britans And Their Harpe, His Ballad Of Agincovrt Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: AAABCCCB DDDBEEEB FFFGHHHG CCCFCCCF BBBBCCCB IIIAFFFA FFFCBBBC CCCBJJJB KKKALBBA MMNBAAAB BBBFFFFF GGGFFFFF FFFBFFFB FFFOLLLO FFFFCCCF| Faire stood the Wind for France | A |
| When we our Sayles aduance | A |
| Nor now to proue our chance | A |
| Longer will tarry | B |
| But putting to the Mayne | C |
| At Kaux the Mouth of Sene | C |
| With all his Martiall Trayne | C |
| Landed King HARRY | B |
| - | |
| And taking many a Fort | D |
| Furnish'd in Warlike sort | D |
| Marcheth tow'rds Agincourt | D |
| In happy howre | B |
| Skirmishing day by day | E |
| With those that stop'd his way | E |
| Where the French Gen'rall lay | E |
| With all his Power | B |
| - | |
| Which in his Hight of Pride | F |
| King HENRY to deride | F |
| His Ransome to prouide | F |
| To the King sending | G |
| Which he neglects the while | H |
| As from a Nation vile | H |
| Yet with an angry smile | H |
| Their fall portending | G |
| - | |
| And turning to his Men | C |
| Quoth our braue HENRY then | C |
| Though they to one be ten | C |
| Be not amazed | F |
| Yet haue we well begunne | C |
| Battels so brauely wonne | C |
| Haue euer to the Sonne | C |
| By Fame beene raysed | F |
| - | |
| And for my Selfe quoth he | B |
| This my full rest shall be | B |
| England ne'r mourne for Me | B |
| Nor more esteeme me | B |
| Victor I will remaine | C |
| Or on this Earth lie slaine | C |
| Neuer shall Shee sustaine | C |
| Losse to redeeme me | B |
| - | |
| Poiters and Cressy tell | I |
| When most their Pride did swell | I |
| Vnder our Swords they fell | I |
| No lesse our skill is | A |
| Than when our Grandsire Great | F |
| Clayming the Regall Seate | F |
| By many a Warlike feate | F |
| Lop'd the French Lillies | A |
| - | |
| The Duke of Yorke so dread | F |
| The eager Vaward led | F |
| With the maine HENRY sped | F |
| Among'st his Hench men | C |
| EXCESTER had the Rere | B |
| A Brauer man not there | B |
| O Lord how hot they were | B |
| On the false French men | C |
| - | |
| They now to fight are gone | C |
| Armour on Armour shone | C |
| Drumme now to Drumme did grone | C |
| To heare was wonder | B |
| That with the Cryes they make | J |
| The very Earth did shake | J |
| Trumpet to Trumpet spake | J |
| Thunder to Thunder | B |
| - | |
| Well it thine Age became | K |
| O Noble ERPINGHAM | K |
| Which didst the Signall ayme | K |
| To our hid Forces | A |
| When from a Medow by | L |
| Like a Storme suddenly | B |
| The English Archery | B |
| Stuck the French Horses | A |
| - | |
| With Spanish Ewgh so strong | M |
| Arrowes a Cloth yard long | M |
| That like to Serpents stung | N |
| Piercing the Weather | B |
| None from his fellow starts | A |
| But playing Manly parts | A |
| And like true English hearts | A |
| Stuck close together | B |
| - | |
| When downe their Bowes they threw | B |
| And forth their Bilbowes drew | B |
| And on the French they flew | B |
| Not one was tardie | F |
| Armes were from shoulders sent | F |
| Scalpes to the Teeth were rent | F |
| Downe the French Pesants went | F |
| Our Men were hardie | F |
| - | |
| This while our Noble King | G |
| His broad Sword brandishing | G |
| Downe the French Hoast did ding | G |
| As to o'r whelme it | F |
| And many a deepe Wound lent | F |
| His Armes with Bloud besprent | F |
| And many a cruell Dent | F |
| Bruised his Helmet | F |
| - | |
| GLOSTER that Duke so good | F |
| Next of the Royall Blood | F |
| For famous England stood | F |
| With his braue Brother | B |
| CLARENCE in Steele so bright | F |
| Though but a Maiden Knight | F |
| Yet in that furious Fight | F |
| Scarce such another | B |
| - | |
| WARWICK in Bloud did wade | F |
| OXFORD the Foe inuade | F |
| And cruell slaughter made | F |
| Still as they ran vp | O |
| SVFFOLKE his Axe did ply | L |
| BEAVMONT and WILLOVGHBY | L |
| Bare them right doughtily | L |
| FERRERS and FANHOPE | O |
| - | |
| Vpon Saint CRISPIN'S day | F |
| Fought was this Noble Fray | F |
| Which Fame did not delay | F |
| To England to carry | F |
| O when shall English Men | C |
| With such Acts fill a Pen | C |
| Or England breed againe | C |
| Such a King HARRY | F |
Michael Drayton
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To The Cambro-britans And Their Harpe, His Ballad Of Agincovrt is a poem by Michael Drayton. This page includes the poem text, poet information, related topics, comments, and similar poems.
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