In Britain’s land shall be a knight, On them shall make a cruel fight, A bitter boar with main and might Shall bring a royal rout that day. There shall die many a worthy knight, And be driven into the fields green and grey, They shall lose both field and fight. The weary eagle shall to an island in the sea retire Where leaves and herbs grow fresh and green. There shall he meet a lady fair, Who shall say, ‘Go help thy friend in battle slain:’ Then by the counsel of that fair, He eagerly will make to flee Twenty-six standard of the enemy, A rampant lion in silver set, in armour fair, Shall help the eagle in that tide, When many a knight shall die. The bear that hath been long tied to a stake shall shake his chains, That every man shall hear, and shall cause much debate. The bull and red rose shall stand in strife, That shall turn England to much woe, And cause many a man to lose his life. In a forest stand oaks three, Beside a headless cross. A well of blood shall run and ree, Its cover shall be brass, Which shall ne’er appear, Till horses’ feet have trod it bare; Who wins it will declare, The eagle shall so fight that day, That ne’er a friend’s from him away. A hound without delay shall run the chase far and near. The dark dragon shall die in fight. A lofty head the bear shall rear, The wide wolf so shall light, The bridled steed against his enemies will fiercely fight. A fleet shall come out of the North, Riding on a horse of trees, A white hind beareth he, And there wreaths so free, That day the eagle shall him slay, And on a hill set his banner straightway. That lion who’s forsaken been and forced to flee, Shall hear a woman shrilly say, ‘Thy friends are killed on yonder hill,’ Death to many a knight this day. With that the lion bears his banner to a hill, Within a forest that’s so plain, Beside a headless cross of stone, There shall the eagle die that day, And the red lion get renown. A great battle shall be fought by crowned Kings three; One shall die and a bastard Duke will win the day. In Sandyford there lies a stone, A crowned King shall lose his head on. In those dreadful days, five wicked priests’ heads shall be sold for a penny. Slaughter shall rage to such a degree, And infants left by those that are slain, That damsels shall with fear and glee, Cry, ‘Mother, mother, I’ve seen a man!’ Between seven, eight, and nine, In England wonders shall be seen. Between nine and thirteen All sorrow shall be done. Then rise up Richard, son of Richard, And bless the happy reign, Thrice happy he who sees this time to come When England shall know rest and peace again.