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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=355143" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>The Swan-Neck</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Evil sped the battle play<br>On the Pope Calixtus' day;<br>Mighty war-smiths, thanes and lords,<br>In Senlac slept the sleep of swords.<br>Harold Earl, shot over shield,<br>Lay along the autumn weald;<br>Slaughter such was never none<br>Since the Ethelings England won.<br>Thither Lady Githa came,<br>Weeping sore for grief and shame;<br>How may she her first-born tell?<br>Frenchmen stript him where he fell,<br>Gashed and marred his comely face;<br>Who can know him in his place?<br>Up and spake two brethren wise,<br>'Youngest hearts have keenest eyes;<br>Bird which leaves its mother's nest,<br>Moults its pinions, moults its crest.<br>Let us call the Swan-neck here,<br>She that was his leman dear;<br>She shall know him in this stound;<br>Foot of wolf, and scent of hound,<br>Eye of hawk, and wing of dove,<br>Carry woman to her love.'<br>Up and spake the Swan-neck high,<br>'Go! to all your thanes let cry<br>How I loved him best of all,<br>I whom men his leman call;<br>Better knew his body fair<br>Than the mother which him bare.<br>When ye lived in wealth and glee<br>Then ye scorned to look on me;<br>God hath brought the proud ones low<br>After me afoot to go.'<br>Rousing erne and sallow glede,<br>Rousing gray wolf off his feed,<br>Over franklin, earl, and thane,<br>Heaps of mother-naked slain,<br>Round the red field tracing slow,<br>Stooped that Swan-neck white as snow;<br>Never blushed nor turned away,<br>Till she found him where he lay;<br>Clipt him in her armes fair,<br>Wrapt him in her yellow hair,<br>Bore him from the battle-stead,<br>Saw him laid in pall of lead,<br>Took her to a minster high,<br>For Earl Harold's soul to cry.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Thus fell Harold, bracelet-giver;<br>Jesu rest his soul for ever;<br>Angles all from thrall deliver;<br>Miserere Domine.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br>Eversley, 1851.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Charles+Kingsley">Charles Kingsley</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=355143" data-title="The Swan-Neck de Charles Kingsley" data-description="Evil sped the battle play
On the Pope Calixtus' day;
Mighty war-smiths, thanes and lords,
In Senlac slept the sleep of swords.
Harold Earl, shot over shield,
Lay along the autumn weald;
Slaughter such was never none
Since the Ethelings England won..."></div>
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