ON BOSWORTH FIELD

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Here, Richard, didst thou fall, caparisoned
With kingdoms of thy lust;
And here wouldst lie, by Fame's bent gleaners shunned,
But came unto thy dust
A swaggerer, perdy!
Who cried "A horse, a horse!" and straight
Thou wert abroad again on kingly feet
To tread eternity.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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