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...PINE-TREES AND THE SKY: EVENING by RUPERT BROOKE ROBINSON CRUSOE ['S STORY, OR ISLAND] by CHARLES EDWARD CARRYL FIRE, FAMINE AND SLAUGHTER. A WAR ECLOGUE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE FAITHLESS NELLY GRAY; A PATHETIC BALLAD by THOMAS HOOD THE GOUTY MERCHANT AND THE STRANGER by HORACE SMITH |