Welshman's Morning Song

The battle raged from east to west for three long hours, and men fought foot to foot and hand to hand. The French archers poured their grey goose shafts upon the thundering squadrons. Wave upon wave burst upon those hardly islanders. And then they were among the english yeomen with a frightful crash of flesh and blood and horse and steel that drowned all other sound of battle with its cruel import jove. Those good saxon countrymen, sure in the confidence of our great brotherhood, kept their line under that hideous shock as though each fought for a crown. Happy king to yield such stuff thrice. Happy country that can rear it. There was no time to