BY
WALTER SCOTT, ESQ.
_Though Valois braved young Edward’s gentle hand,_
_And Albret rush’d on Henry’s way-worn band,_
_With Europe’s chosen sons in arms renown’d,_
_Yet not on Vere’s bold archers long they look’d,_
_Nor Audley’s squires nor Mowbray’s yeomen brook’d,--_
_They saw their standard fall, and left their monarch bound._
AKENSIDE.