The Battle of Hastings

The cold wind north, fate took its course As fate is fain to do For kings fall down, that bloody crown! And still the eagle flew. The time had come, to cross the chasm To stop the king untrue. From France to Wales, through storms and gales, And still the eagle flew. They manned the sails ere sun grew pale For twas a hardy crew With thousand score of men aboard And still the eagle flew. Men grew weary, sea was dreary Til land was within view They were ready, swords a - steady And still the eagle flew. In days of yore, upon the shore, Both silent and subdued For who says aught afore they fought And still the eagle flew. The marched o’er peaks til days were weeks The Normans, they all knew It would be soon, before next moon And still the eagle flew. In foreign land they must withstand, With death to pay their due. From the forest, the battle crest! And still the eagle flew. To conquer all, Harold will fall! The Normans marched on through, Ready to kill on Senlac Hill And still the eagle flew. While juggling swords, he sang the words Of Roland brave and true. Twas Taillefer, the jester fair And still the eagle flew. Dead soldier there by Taillefer Then Harold’s soldiers slew The jester’s head, first Norman dead And still the eagle flew. Then time seemed froze, no swords nor blows But blood would fall anew, As fights broke out, with gore throughout And still the eagle flew. Then time resumed, all men were doomed For such is war I knew. Swords were flashing, knights were clashing And still the eagle flew. The Normans won, the battle done, The mighty King they slew, That great Harold, that king so bold. And still the eagle flew. The conqueror, the saviour Twas William, king anew, Upon the throne, Britain his own For now his eagle flew. The eagle flew with doves unto That field of gore wasting For thus ended that “noble” deed, The Battle of Hastings.