In saint Crispin day the hounds of war make hounds bigs like Goma's
These wounds I had on Crispian's day.'
Old men
forget; yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll
remember, with advantages,
What feats he did that
day.
Then shall our names,
Familiar in his mouth as
household words-
Harry the King, Bedford and
Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and
Gloucester-
Be in their flowing cups freshly
rememb'red.
This story shall the good man teach his
son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered-
We
few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he
to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my
brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle
his condition;
And gentlemen in England
now-a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they
were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any
speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's
and they won and they lost....
e os próximos anos eleitoraes bão ser todos assis ou assad....
é o fado do fadistão mal fodido.....but we remember the days of the zulu dawn .......
