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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=541808" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>A Ballad Of Evesham</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">August 4: 1265</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Earl Simon on the Abbey tower<br>In summer sunshine stood,<br>While helm and lance o'er Greenhill heights<br>Come glinting through the wood.<br>'My son!' he cried, 'I know his flag<br>Amongst a thousand glancing':--<br>Fond father! no!--'tis Edward stern<br>In royal strength advancing.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">The Prince fell on him like a hawk<br>At Al'ster yester-eve,<br>And flaunts his captured banner now<br>And flaunts but to deceive:--<br>--Look round! for Mortimer is by,<br>And guards the rearward river:--<br>The hour that parted sire and son<br>Has parted them for ever!</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Young Simon's dead,' he thinks, and look'd<br>Upon his living son:<br>'Now God have mercy on our souls,<br>Our bodies are undone!<br>But, Hugh and Henry, ye can fly<br>Before their bowmen smite us--<br>They come on well! But 'tis from me<br>They learn'd the skill to fight us.'</div><div style="margin:10px 0">--'For England's cause, and England's laws,<br>With you we fight and fall!'<br>--'Together, then, and die like men,<br>And Heaven has room for all!'<br>--Then, face to face, and limb to limb,<br>And sword with sword inwoven,<br>That stubborn courage of the race<br>On Evesham field was proven</div><div style="margin:10px 0">O happy hills! O summer sky<br>Above the valley bent!<br>Your peacefulness rebukes the rage<br>Of blood on blood intent!<br>No thought was then for death or life<br>Through that long dreadful hour,<br>While Simon 'mid his faithful few<br>Stood like an iron tower,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">'Gainst which the winds and waves are hurl'd<br>In vain, unmoved, foursquare;<br>And round him raged the insatiate swords<br>Of Edward and De Clare:<br>And round him in the narrow combe<br>His white-cross comrades rally,<br>While ghastly gashings, cloud the beck<br>And crimson all the valley,</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And triple sword-thrusts meet his sword,<br>And thrice the charge he foils,<br>Though now in threefold flood the foe<br>Round those devoted boils:<br>And still the light of England's cause<br>And England's love was o'er him,<br>Until he saw his gallant boy<br>Go down in blood before him:--</div><div style="margin:10px 0">He hove his huge two-handed blade,<br>He cried ''Tis time to die!'<br>And smote around him like a flail,<br>And clear'd a space to lie:--<br>'Thank God!'--no more;--nor now could life<br>From loved and lost divide him:--<br>And night fell o'er De Montfort dead,<br>And England wept beside him.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Francis+Turner+Palgrave">Francis Turner Palgrave</a><div class=q>
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Earl Simon on the Abbey tower
In summer sunshine stood,
While helm and lance o'er Greenhill heights
Come glinting through the wood.
'My son!' he cried, 'I know his flag
Amongst a thousand glancing':--
Fond father! no!--'tis Edward ..."></div>
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