An Anglo-Saxon Chronicle (in verse)

Game Setup: Civilization IV Warlords 2.1.3, RFC-Warlords 1.487, English, Viceroy
Verse setup: Iambic pentameter, rhyming couplets, except that last line of four-line stanza may be iambic hexameter. Grammatical sentences may not coincide with lines of meter.



Look what the gods have thrown into our hand:
A rich, resourceful, yet defenceless land!
By Thor, it's surely time to settle down:
Let wandering cease, and here found London town.

Across the sea in France, they now have kings,
That seems a clever way to order things.
Let's bind our peasants to their master's fields.
Such serfs will work the land and increase yields.



Some Vikings are our neighbours to the north,
No fear, we'll send our sturdy settlers forth,
To send the violent Vikings whence they came.
This island's every acre's our domain.

(Half-rhyme, sorry)

In winter, how we wish that we were Celts,
For Inverness invented furry pelts.
In battle, how we wish that we had swords;
This island's iron's held by Viking hordes.



As Celts and Vikings bow before our throne,
We're proud to say this island's all our own,
It's more than simply filling breadth and length:
A threefold cord has more than thrice one's strength.

Our sailors find an island to our west,
Its empty air means no-one will protest
If settlers found a town with English ways,
And learn from locals how to put on plays.

(Bonus points if you can see the pun in line 2)

air = aireland?

Ireland in Irish is Éire

hoplitejoe said:

Ireland in Irish is Éire

Click to expand...

Correct!

Comhghairdeas!

I've never seen a tale like this before;
I must entreat the talebearer for more!
(Forgive me, Father, I have truly sinned
With this infernal dogg'rel I have penned).

very nice

nice pun too...I actually love to hear the Irish pronounce the word air.

Extremely entertaining.

Now calendars are found on every wall,
We've calculated that the earth's a ball.
We've noticed how we can predict the tides,
And nature's full of things with mirror'd sides.

We know that England's far beyond compare,
(Our dyes and furs make clothes we like to wear;
We've wheaten bread to eat, and milk to drink)
And all these things together made us think:

"Beyond the hellish heat and desert zone,
Might lie a mirror image of our own!
If we explore the other side of earth,
Perhaps we'll find another land of worth."

Well, scarcely had these notions left our lips,
Than cities started building two great ships:
A galley ferried settlers and their stores,
A trireme terrified with three-tiered oars.

See! There's a perfectly rational explanation for an impoverished medieval civilization sending settlers to a particular spot on the far side of Africa

This is epic.

General Olaf said:

This is epic.

Click to expand...

Very droll

As Jesus Christ did twelve apostles call,
To follow him, and leave their nets, their all,
Disturbing well-laid plans by his command,
So our four cities bow to his demand.

His gospel entered in by way of trade;
No works of ours could speed it to our aid.
No wonder! For the Spirit's way is grace:
A simple gift to Adam's fallen race.

The sun that rises higher in the sky
Assures our sailors, "southern shores are nigh".
The Son, now risen, ruling o'er our land,
Assures our souls we're safe in God's right hand.