Battle Of Hastings - I Poem Rhyme Scheme and Analysis
Rhyme Scheme: ABABBBBBCC BCCCDADBDD BBBDBDBDEE FBFBBCBCGB EHBHBEBEAA EDGDBBBBCC BCBCABBBII BCBCJBJBBB DBDBEBEBCC ABABKCKCII LMLMDGDGKK MBMBGBGBKK BJBJBMBMBB MDMDBNBGBB MJMJMJMJII BBBBLBLBKK MMBMBGBGMM MBMBKBLBMO CHRYSTE it is a grief for me to tell | A |
HOW manie a nobil erle and valrous knyghte | B |
In fyghtynge for Kynge Harrold noblie fell | A |
Al sleyne in Hastyngs feeld in bloudie fyghte | B |
O sea our teeming donore han thy floude | B |
Han anie fructuous entendement | B |
Thou wouldst have rose and sank wyth tydes of bloude | B |
Before Duke Wyllyam's knyghts han hither went | B |
Whose cowart arrows manie erles sleyne | C |
And brued the feeld wyth bloude as season rayne | C |
- | |
And of his knyghtes did eke full manie die | B |
All passyng hie of mickle myghte echone | C |
Whose poygnant arrowes typp'd with destynie | C |
Caus'd manie wydowes to make myckle mone | C |
Lordynges avaunt that chycken harted are | D |
From out of hearynge quicklie now deparle | A |
Full well I wote to synge of bloudie warre | D |
Will greeve your tenderlie and mayden harte | B |
Go do the weaklie womman inn mann's geare | D |
And scond your mansion if grymm war come there | D |
- | |
Soone as the erlie maten belle was tolde | B |
And sonne was come to byd us all good daie | B |
Bothe armies on the feeld both brave and bolde | B |
Prepar'd for fyghte in champyon arraie | D |
As when two bulles destynde for Hocktide fyghte | B |
Are yoked bie the necke within a sparre | D |
Theie rend the erthe and travellyrs affryghte | B |
Lackynge to gage the sportive bloudie warre | D |
Soe lacked Harroldes menne to come to blowes | E |
The Normans lacked for to wielde their bowes | E |
- | |
Kynge Harrolde turnynge to hys leegemen spake | F |
My merrie men be not caste downe in mynde | B |
Your onlie lode for aye to mar or make | F |
Before yon sunne has donde his welke you'll fynde | B |
Your lovyng wife who erst dyd rid the londe | B |
Of Lurdanes and the treasure that you han | C |
Wyll falle into the Normanne robber's honde | B |
Unlesse with honde and harte you plaie the manne | C |
Cheer up youre hartes chase sorrowe farre awaie | G |
Godde and Seyncte Cuthbert be the worde to daie | B |
- | |
And thenne Duke Wyllyam to his knyghtes did saie | E |
My merrie menne be bravelie everiche | H |
Gif I do gayn the honore of the daie | B |
Ech one of you I will make myckle riche | H |
Beer you in mynde we for a kyngdomm fyghte | B |
Lordshippes and honores echone shall possesse | E |
Be this the worde to daie God and my Ryghte | B |
Ne doubte but God will oure true cause blesse | E |
The clarions then sounded sharpe and shrille | A |
Deathdoeynge blades were out intent to kille | A |
- | |
And brave Kyng Harrolde had nowe donde hys saie | E |
He threwe wythe myghte amayne hys shorte horse spear | D |
The noise it made the duke to turn awaie | G |
And hytt his knyghte de Beque upon the ear | D |
His cristede beaver dyd him smalle abounde | B |
The cruel spear went thorough all his hede | B |
The purpel blonde came goushynge to the ground | B |
And at Duke Wyllyam's feet he tumbled deade | B |
So fell the myghtie tower of Standrip whenne | C |
It felte the furie of the Danish menne | C |
- | |
O Afflem son of Cuthbert holie Sayncte | B |
Come ayde thy freend and shewe Duke Wyllyams payne | C |
Take up thy pencyl all hys features paincte | B |
Thy coloryng excells a synger strayne | C |
Duke Wyllyam sawe hys freende sleyne piteouslie | A |
Hys lovynge freende whome he muche honored | B |
For he han lovd hym from puerilitie | B |
And theie together bothe han bin ybred | B |
O in Duke Wyllyam's harte it raysde a flame | I |
To whiche the rage of emptie wolves is tame | I |
- | |
He tooke a brasen crosse bowe in his honde | B |
And drewe it harde with all hys myghte amein | C |
Ne doubtyng but the bravest in the londe | B |
Han by his soundynge arrowe lede bene sleyne | C |
Alured's stede the fynest stede alive | J |
Bye comelie forme knowlached from the rest | B |
But nowe his destind howre did aryve | J |
The arrowe hyt upon his milkwhite breste | B |
So have I seen a ladie smock soe white | B |
Blown in the mornynge and mowd downe at night | B |
- | |
With thilk a force it dyd his bodie gore | D |
That in his tender guttes it entered | B |
In veritee a fulle clothe yarde or more | D |
And downe with flaiten noyse he sunken dede | B |
Brave Alured benethe his faithfull horse | E |
Was smeerd all over withe the gorie duste | B |
And on hym laie the recer's lukewarme corse | E |
That Alured coulde not hymself aluste | B |
The standyng Normans drew theyr bowe echone | C |
And broght full manie Englysh champyons downe | C |
- | |
The Normans kept aloofe at distaunce stylle | A |
The Englysh nete but short horse spears could welde | B |
The Englysh manie dethe sure dartes did kille | A |
And manie arrowes twang'd upon the sheelde | B |
Kynge Haroldes knyghts desir'de for hendie stroke | K |
And marched furious o'er the bloudie pleyne | C |
In bodie close and made the pleyne to smoke | K |
Theire sheelds rebounded arrowes back agayne | C |
The Normans stode aloof nor hede the same | I |
Their arrowes woulde do dethe tho' from far of they came | I |
- | |
Duke Wyllyam drewe agen hys arrowe strynge | L |
An arrowe withe a sylver hede drewe he | M |
The arrowe dauncynge in the ayre dyd synge | L |
And hytt the horse of Tosselyn on the knee | M |
At this brave Tosslyn threwe his short horse speare | D |
Duke Wyllyam stooped to avoyde the blowe | G |
The yrone weapon hummed in his eare | D |
And hitte Sir Doullie Naibor on the prowe | G |
Upon his helme foe surious was the stroke | K |
It splete his bever and the ryvets broke | K |
- | |
Downe fell the beaver by Tosslyn splete in tweine | M |
And onn his hede expos'd a punie wounde | B |
But on Destoutvilles sholder came ameine | M |
And fell'd the champyon to the bloudie grounde | B |
Then Doullie myghte his bowestrynge drewe | G |
Enthoughte to gyve brave Tosslyn bloudie wounde | B |
But Harolde's asenglave stopp'd it as it flewe | G |
And it fell bootless on the bloudie grounde | B |
Siere Doullie when he sawe hys venge thus broke | K |
Death doynge blade from out the scabard toke | K |
- | |
And now the battail closde on everych syde | B |
And face to face appeard the knyghts full brave | J |
They lifted up theire bylles with myckle pryde | B |
And manie woundes unto the Normans gave | J |
So have I sene two weirs at once give grounde | B |
White fomyng hygh to rorynge combat runne | M |
In roaryng dyn and heaven breaking sounde | B |
Burste waves on waves and spangle in the sunne | M |
And when their myghte in burstynge waves is fled | B |
Like cowards stele alonge their ozy bede | B |
- | |
Yonge Egelrede a knyghte of comelie mien | M |
Affynd unto the kynge of Dynefarre | D |
At echone tylte and tourney he was seene | M |
And lov'd to be amonge the bloudie warre | D |
He couch'd hys launce and ran wyth mickle myghte | B |
Ageinste the brest of Sieur de Bonoboe | N |
He grond and sunken on the place of fyghte | B |
O Chryste to fele his wounde his harte was woe | G |
Ten thousand thoughtes push'd in upon his mynde | B |
Not for hymself but those he left behynde | B |
- | |
He dy'd and leffed wyfe and chyldren tweine | M |
Whom he wyth cheryshment did dearlie love | J |
In England's court in goode Kynge Edwarde's regne | M |
He wonne the tylte and ware her crymson glove | J |
And thence unto the place where he was borne | M |
Together with hys welthe better wyfe | J |
To Normandie he dyd perdie returne | M |
In peace and quietnesse to lead his lyfe | J |
And now with sovrayn Wyllyam he came | I |
To die in battel or get welthe and fame | I |
- | |
Then swefte as lyghtnynge Egelredus set | B |
Agaynst du Barlie of the mounten head | B |
In his dere hartes bloude his longe launce was wett | B |
And from his courser down he tumbled dede | B |
So have I sene a mountayne oak that longe | L |
Has caste his shadowe to the mountayne syde | B |
Brave all the wyndes tho' ever they so stronge | L |
And view the briers belowe with self taught pride | B |
But whan throwne downe by mightie thunder stroke | K |
He'de rather bee a bryer than an oke | K |
- | |
Then Egelred dyd in a declynie | M |
Hys launce uprere with all hys myghte ameine | M |
And strok Fitzport upon the dexter eye | B |
And at his pole the spear came out agayne | M |
Butt as he drewe it forthe an arrowe fledde | B |
Wyth mickle myght lent from de Tracy's bowe | G |
And at hys syde the arrowe entered | B |
And oute the crymson streme of bloude gan flowe | G |
In purple strekes it dyd his armer staine | M |
And smok'd in puddles on the dustie plaine | M |
- | |
But Egelred before he sunken downe | M |
With all his myghte amein his spear besped | B |
It hytte Bertrammil Manne upon the crowne | M |
And bothe together quicklie sunken dede | B |
So have I seen a roche o'er others hang | K |
Who stronglie plac'd laughde at his slippry state | B |
But when he falls with heaven peercynge bange | L |
That he the sleeve unravels all theire fate | B |
And broken onn the beech thys lesson | M |
Thomas Chatterton
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