Fair stood the wind for France, When we our sails advance, Nor now to prove our chance, Longer will tarry; But putting to the main At Kaux, the mouth of Seine, With all his martial train, Landed King Harry.

When faith is kneeling by his bed of death, And innocence is closing up his eyes, Now if thou wouldst, when all have given him over, From death to life thou mi…

Yet have we well begun, Battles so bravely won Have ever to the sun By fame been raised.

Since there's no help, come let us kiss and part.