This page needs to be proofread.
DRAYTON
The Duke of York so dread The eager vaward led; With the main Henry sped,
Amongst his henchmen; Excesterhad the rear, A braver man not there : O Lord, how hot they were
On the false Frenchmen !
They now to fight are gone, Armour on armour shone, Drum now to drum did groan,
To hear was wonder; That with the cries they make The very earth did shake, Trumpet to trumpet spake,
Thunder to thunder.
Well it thine age became, O noble Erpingham, Which did the signal aim
To our hid forces ! When from the meadow by, Like a storm suddenly, The English archery
Struck the French horses.
With Spanish yew so strong, Arrows a cloth-yard long, That like to serpents stung, Piercing the weather;
�� �
