Shall live from age to age;
And still on Brentford Green while springs
The daisy, while the linnet sings
Her valentine to May,
The sympathising hind shall tell
Of those who fought and those who fell,
At Brentford’s grim foray.
L’Envoy to the Reader.
Now, gentles, fare ye well, my rede
Hath reached an end, nor feel I need