son, Godwin's son!" It echoes still
At Senlac Hill in Sussex shire. Undone
Is Godwin's son, for I was he. Now dead,
My crowned head up on a Norman pike,
For King and commoner alike to mock.
And yet the shock of death is lightly born.
Defeat and scorn are not. I slew bold Leif
And Eric, I gave grief to the Norse wives,
But all those lives I took could not save mine.
Hot blood made bitter wine, and I did taste
It full to waste the best of Saxon youth
And learn the truth: power, riches, and fame
Are naught, men are the same beneath the earth.
And of what worth, left over bits of bone?