Dyd triumphe 'farre and neare.
Dreare was the daye—in darke darke cloudes
The welkin alle endrown'd;
But farre more dreare the woeful scene
Of carnage alle arounde.
Dreare was the sounde of warring wyndes
That foughte along the skyes;
But farre more dreare the woeful sounde
Of dying warriours sighes.
Laden with deathe's unpitying arme,