IN THE MOMENT OF BATTLE

Pierced in the thrust and fight for glory

The cuts, the blows, the shrieks, the fury

The mess of battle, the fatal blow

The screams of death, the mighty flow

Of battle scrum, the bloody tide

The savage roar, no place to hide

No time for hope, no time to pray

The gods decide, the end of day

The stinking mire, the pleas for quarter

Defend the King, shrill cries for slaughter

And in the swelling, bulging core

They shout ‘Macbeth for evermore’

As now the final deeds are done

And Duncan falls, a battle won

A call for halt, cast down thy swords

Let Mercy in, and afterwards

All hail Macbeth, our certain King

God’s will is what our Lord will bring.

And from the pitch of mighty battle

Where many spewed a deathly rattle

While Duncan’s men knelt sore afraid

Bloodspat Macbeth mayn’t spare the blade

Though they had seen the sense to yield

And show that they had quit the field.

This King’s reign in its morning prime

Remembered till the fall of time.