Classic Poem

1.

Here lie the relics of a martyred knight,
Whose loyalty, unspotted as the light,
Sealed with his blood his injured sovereign's right.

2.

The state his head did from his body sever
Because, when living, 'twas his chief endeavor
To set the nation and its head together.

3.

He boldly fell, girt round with weeping soldiers,
Imploring Heaven (for the good of the beholders)
So to cut Holland's head from England's shoulders.