Classic Poem

Th'earle Douglasse for this day doth with the Percies stand,
To whom they Berwicke gave, and in Northumberland
Some Seigniories and Holds, if they the Battell got,
Who brought with him to Field full many an angry Scot,
At Holmdon Battell late that being overthrowne,
Now on the King and Prince hop'd to regaine their owne;
With almost all the power of Cheshire got together,
By Venables (there great) and Vernon mustred thether.
The Vaward of the King, great Stafford tooke to guide.
The Vaward of the Lords upon the other side,
Consisted most of Scots, which joyning, made such spoyle,
As at the first constrain'd the English to recoyle,
And almost brake their Rankes, which when King Henry found,
Bringing his Battell up, to reinforce the ground,
The Percies bring up theirs, againe to make it good.
Thus whilst the either Host in opposition stood,
Brave Douglasse with his spurres, his furious Courser strake,
His Lance set in his rest, when desperatly he brake
In, where his eye beheld th' Emperiall Ensigne pight,
Where soone it was his chance, upon the King to light,
Which in his full carreere he from his Courser threw;
The next Sir Walter Blunt, he with three other slew,
All armed like the King, which he dead sure accounted;
But after when hee saw the King himselfe remounted:
This hand of mine, quoth he, foure Kings this day hath slaine,
And swore out of the earth he thought they sprang againe,
Or Fate did him defend, at whom he onely aym'd.
When Henry Hotspurre, so with his high deeds inflam'd,
Doth second him againe, and through such dangers presse,
That Douglasse valiant deeds he made to seeme the lesse,
As still the people cryed, A Percy Espirance.
The King which saw then time, or never to advance
His Battell in the Field, which neere from him was wonne,
Ayded by that brave Prince, his most couragious sonne,
Who bravely coming on, in hope to give them chase,
It chanc'd he with a shaft was wounded in the face;
Whom when out of the fight, his friends would beare away,
He strongly it refus'd, and thus was heard to say,
Time never shall report, Prince Henry left the field,
When Harry Percy staid, his traytrous sword to weeld.
Now rage and equall wounds, alike inflame their bloods,
And the maine Battels joyne, as doe two adverse floods
Met in some narrow Arme, shouldring as they would shove
Each other from their path, or would their bankes remove.
The King his traytrous foes, before him downe doth hew,
And with his hands that day, neere fortie persons slue:
When conquest wholly turnes to his victorious side,
His power surrounding all, like to a furious tyde;
That Henry Hotspurre dead upon the cold earth lyes,
Stout Wor'ster taken was, and doughtie Douglasse flyes.
Five thousand from both parts left dead upon the ground,
Mongst whom the kings fast friend, great Staffords coarse was found;
And all the Knights there dubb'd the morning but before,
The evenings Sunne beheld there sweltred in their gore.