Son of a bastard, given to shout
for him, a nation awaited
He prayed to the god of men
and saw a time of blood
Ships were built, a fleet for the ages
Wine and spears were taken aboard
such spectacle had ne'er been seen
since Agammemnon made his war!
Said Harald: "Bring your Bastard King!
He has no claim to Mercia!
He'll find naught here but slaughter,
and an ignominious death!"
And so they mustered Saxon men
for marching to the sea,
With Mercians to arms again
and Welsh bows by their side.
The Northmen came to fight!
Leaving Armour at the shore
Charging on to Wessex,
blood stained the forest floor.
At Stamford Bridge the Vikings fell,
down to one, who with his axe,
made the Saxons fear his name!
At the battle many will fall
from farmer to mighty king.
On the anvil of shatter'd shields,
a nation was forged in blood.
To Battle, a hill of verdant green,
brightly shone the midday sun.
William and a thousand horse sallied,
men of sword and spear did follow
Once again the mighty fyrd
made line and crashed their shields
Dregs of men, but no less brave,
with furrowed brows and beaten steel
Arrows flew but few fell
Up the mighty hill they charged
into the English lines; The knights tore
Saxon flesh and mail
Irony of valour showed
Son of Godwin shot in th'eye,
his army laid like winterwheat
before the peasant scythe.
