Two Bs blessèd

Uncommon Britons sire legend and play Spirit’s forbear
Feeding fortunes afar in a tenured holding small,
Or, as strong-built wader no boat can bear,
Cresting waves to the canvassed court of an imperial heart

Noble heads both host feast and merriment
With fay-brewed draughts from a poet’s inexhaustible cauldron
For one a ship’s-depth of quenching, the other sips of hope for a homestead

One briefly dwelled a palace pledged for spoils
Crown bent to prophesy, removed, now fending feud
With Gallic gaze ‘neath invader’s walls of white

Ours, proud protector, broad shoulder-borne and poised in honour still
Hod-bearing a hearth, built strong in bonds more familial than feudal
Drawing loyalty from blood not booty
To battle likeminds instead on fields of play

Twin countrymen’s voices raised sonorous in God’s-own booming pitch
‘gainst supernatural Dwarven-echo from mountains black
Both barding coal-fletched thought and memory on Tower-dweller’s wing

They are the best of men, both Uther Ben.

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