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...A FEW RULES FOR BEGINNERS by KATHERINE MANSFIELD CONTRA MORTEM: THE VILLAGE by HAYDEN CARRUTH I KNOW, I REMEMBER, BUT HOW CAN I HELP YOU by HAYDEN CARRUTH SELF-ANALYSIS by DAVID IGNATOW TO THE ROCK THAT WILL BE A CORNERSTONE OF THE HOUSE by ROBINSON JEFFERS |