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Array
(
[sid] => 172668
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Henry V (Agincourt)
[time] => 2012-05-26 13:33:56
[hometext] => This poetry does not relate with the actually event. But i always wanted to write a poetry about this battle, since its one of my favorite battle during the Hundred Years War. And no offence to the French...i like their history too.
[bodytext] => Man, we came to find glory afar from our beloved Isle I brought you here to fight not for your king’s glory but for yours and for your country. But, indeed I say this to you my brave Englishmen, Defeat has never looked so certain. But unlike our foes, I want nothing more than victory! And I shall have it, for I have faith in you my brave men and in God. Even God himself must have grown sick of the French arrogance, so we do God a favor Remember this day men, remember this day! For your children will remember it. All the children of our beloved England will remember it. And unfortunately, even our French foes will remember it. I came to take what was mine! But these French are as arrogant as they come and go, The French being so proud and arrogant tend to underestimate us, Thus being more arrogant, because of their numbers, but fear not. On the eve of Saint Crispin’s Day, we prayed not for strength, we prayed for courage, For courage gives us strength, To prove it, we stand here to face the multitude of French who thinks, of nothing less then killing every last one of us, to regain their honor. Don't aspect mercy from them and show them none. Behold! The dawn breaking in these muddy woodlands Fear not the French knights for our longbows will strike them down and If they get too close we have stakes to lead them to their pointy deaths. I look around and I see those faces that choose to follow me, I for your sake will not abundant my loyal subjects. To my right the Duke of York ever willing to die for your king but I don't aspect you to die in the hands of these brigands. To my left, Lord Camoys, the dutiful vassal of mine. My faithful household knight, Sir Thomas Erpringham Such fine collection of soldiers ready to fight for England our abode. But our foe denies us the privileges of going home. Thus leaving us a great duty of a grant slaughter. The French men-at-arms, is easy pickings for our longbows, and on such a weather, it almost seems like God intends an English victory. So, they hope to make up in numbers of what they lack in courage and skill. We maybe outmanned, but one of you is worth twenty of them. I aspect each one of you to do your part and kill a least a hundred of these French for if you die without kill at least ten of these French, I will drag you back from heaven or hell and kill you again! I can also see our French foes dare not attack us, But must wait on for more arrogant Frenchmen, Thus it’s a great gathering of arrogance and stupidity. I intend to kill them all as soon as possible least their stupidity proves Contagious. They still wait for more because they are afraid of you my brave dutiful Englishmen. I your King, for today I am not your King but your brothers in arm will fight alone side you, and because of this brotherly code we follow, we shall have victory. For our foes knows not of this! At the last, Today is Saint Crispin’s Day, if anyone of you sheds your blood with me than you are my brother. Now bring me my broad sword and let me kiss the ground that was kind to me, and then let me kiss the cross least i die, lift up our English banners, set aside any rivalry in our ranks and march away. March away unto victory! March for your honor! March for your loved ones! March for your King! March away for our beloved home, to England! For Saint George!! [comments] => 0 [counter] => 145 [topic] => 55 [informant] => Lide [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => dedicatedpoems )
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