Великолепная песня. Agincourt. Поет - Ken Theriot.
Слова (еле нашел :3):
I left my home to take the coin
King Henry's army for to join
A knightly fee I seek to hold
A belt to wear, and spurs of gold
Two accolades had King Henry
Just one would be enough for me
So off we march from keep and town
To win my King a second crown
CHORUS:
For God, Saint George, and King Henry
I've brought my men across the sea
Honor and right we're fighting for
I'll win my spurs at Agincourt
I brought in train nine armored men
And bowmen steady, ten by ten
We've taken ship and come to land;
On Normandy's green earth we stand
A hundred years of war we've known,
Our King denied his second throne
We'll beard the lion in his den
And show the worth of English men!
(CH)
To Harfleur Town we laid the siege
And little could I serve my liege
My men are sick, the rivers swell;
How long must we bide here in Hell?
Then Holland's men essay the gate,
Defended bravely, but too late
Our guns are brought to breach the walls
And by surrender Harfleur falls
(CH)
King Henry stands in armor clad
And though we fear, our hearts are glad
He calls us brothers, happy few,
I may die my liege, but I'll not shame you!
At last the French are camped in sight
With battle planned for morning's light
The minstrels sing with all their breath;
The priests prepare our souls for death
But defeat I cannot reckon by,
A prisoner I, my men to die?
I've asked forgiveness from the Lord,
So take my soul and bring my sword!
(CH)
The Duke of York my men will guard,
My bowmen in the archers' yard
No man may make it back alive--
For each we have, the French have five
The battle's joined, the arrows fly,
The French on horse attack hard by
A mighty press, the Duke is down,
What price to pay for Henry's crown?
What miracle my eyes have spied!
Our valiant archers turn the tide
Before them each a sharpened stave
From charging horse their life to save
The charge falls back on their own ranks
With arrows in their horses' flanks
The wounded mounts run mad with pain,
The French line breaks, their plans in vain
By English might the French are pressed,
King Henry fights like one possessed
The Duke will never rise again;
It falls to me to lead our men
Will rallied cry our van attacks,
The archers join with sword and axe
With banners high we meet the fray;
Against all odds we win the day!
(CH)
To London Town and songs of praise,
In victory we proudly raise
The banner of Saint George's
Cross to cries of, "Deo Gratias"
But now I ride for my own lands
To serve the King as he commands
To keep the faith he placed in me
With grace and might of chivalry
For God, Saint George, and King Henry
We gained a mighty victory
And I return, a squire no more--
I won my spurs at Agincourt!