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Enter Poem or Quote (Required)Required Come by the Sword, Die by the Sword They stood in ranks a thousand long High upon the hill The Roman legion, fierce and strong With sword and lance and bill The Briton hoards below them stare With wild fanatic eyes They jeer the foe and beg them dare With anger and despise Come and fight you cowardly foe Come and meet your fate We’ll cut you down, row by row Send you to heavens gate With scoff and scorn the Romans yawn What empty threats you speak We’ll rip you limb from limb this morn You’re scrawny, thin and weak Down below, laughter roars Your bellies, we will slice We’ll lay you dead, in your scores Come prove your men not mice We will arrive and make you pay For indolence and taunt You will eat every word you say When they come back to haunt It’s easy up on high to gloat But everybody knows It’s our intent to cut each throat And leave you for the crows But when we make our move towards There’ll be no shy nor rests We’ll plunge our sharp and bloody swords Deep in those ragbag chests Think of your girlfriends, mothers, wives For them there’ll be no gains Will be, as we, cut short their lives When we spill out your brains For one last time you’ll see the sky Cause you’re not leaving whole When heathen head is raised up high On legion victory pole Gasp deep upon your final breath Invader of our land Your destiny this day is death By rude and brutish hand With sword and lance and bill All break into their stride With voices booming still Blood fills the wide divide , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , March forward to today Though forces re-arranged And ask them in what way Anything has changed
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