The Son of Love and Lord of War I sing; <br />Him who bade England bow to Normandy <br />And left the name of conqueror more than king <br />To his unconquerable dynasty. <br />Not fann'd alone by Victory's fleeting wing, <br />He rear'd his bold and brilliant throne on high: <br />The Bastard kept, like lions, his prey fast, <br />And Britain's bravest victor was the last.<br /><br />George Gordon Byron<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-conquest/
