The Death of Harold
(14 October 1066)
Outnumbered, but undaunted, stood the English king
NearHastings, with his close-embattled shield-wall-ring
And steadfast axemen, beating off incessantly
Renewed assaults ofNormandy’s horsed chivalry.
Late was the hour, and soon would darkness bring reserves
To join his battered ranks and freshen wearied nerves.
With hopes thus reinforced,Englandcould yet be saved
When these hard-fought hostilities were next rebraved.
Why, then, did he look up?. His brain – with colours starred,
With blinding lights and agonising pains – was scarred.
Backwards he staggered, clutching at the fatal fluke
Projecting from his peerless eye in sharp rebuke
To thoughts of glory!. Then he died; and his untimely death
ExtinguishedEngland’s darkling hopes with his expiring breath.
