The Conquest
The Son of Love and Lord of War I sing;
Him who bade England bow to Normandy
And left the name of conqueror more than king
To his unconquerable dynasty.
Not fann’d alone by Victory’s fleeting wing,
He rear’d his bold and brilliant throne on high:
The Bastard kept, like lions, his prey fast,
And Britain’s bravest victor was the last.
Altre opere di Lord Byron...
Windsor Poetics: Lines Composed on the Occasion of His Royal Highness the Prince Regent Being Seen Standing Between the Coffins of Henry Viii and Charles I, in the Royal Vault at Windsor
Famed for contemptuous breach of s… By headless Charles see heartless… Between them stands another sceptr… It moves, it reigns—in all but nam… Charles to his people, Henry to h…
