Versos English William Blake King

English poem

King

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Good morrow, Generals; when English courage fails Down goes our right to France. But we are conquerors everywhere; nothing Can stand our soldiers; each man is worthy Of a triumph. Such an army of heroes Ne’er shouted to the heavens, nor shook the field. Edward, my son, thou art Most happy, having such command: the man Were base who were not fired to deeds Above heroic, having such examples.