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. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...IN YOUTH IS PLEASURE by ROBERT WEVER BRITANNIA'S PASTORALS: BOOK 1. TO WILLIAM, EARL OF PEMBROKE by WILLIAM BROWNE (1591-1643) THE WANDERER by WILLIAM ALLEN BUTLER HOW BARRE, VERMONT, WAS NAMED by DANIEL LEAVENS CADY TOWARDS DEMOCRACY: PART 4. A VILLAGE CHURCH by EDWARD CARPENTER |