Thou'st decked old chiefs of Cornwall's land

"Thou'st decked old chiefs of Cornwall's land To face the fiend with thee they dared; Thou prov'dst a Tirfing in their hand, Which victory gave whene'er 'twas bared.

"Though Cornwall's moors 'twas ne'er my lot To view, in Eastern Anglia born, Yet I her sons' rude strength have got, And feel of death their fearless scorn."