Classic Poem

I.

Some comfort must it be to gentle mind,
When they have well redeemed their land from bane,
When they are dead, they leave their name behind,
And their good deeds do on the earth remain;
Down in the grave we bury every stain,
Whilst all their gentleness is made to sheene,
Like comely baubles rarely to be seen.

II.

Ælla, the warden of this castle-stead,
Whilst Saxons did the English sceptre sway,
Who made whole troops of Dacian men to bleed,
Then closed his eyes, and closed his eyes for aye,
We rouse him up, before the Judgment Day,
To say what he, as taught to speak, can ken,
And how he sojourned in the vale of men.