Holland
This article is about the region in the Netherlands. For other uses, see Holland (disambiguation).Holland is the name of a region in the central-western part of the Netherlands. Holland is a former county of the Holy Roman Empire and later the leading member of the Republic of the Seven United Provinces of the Netherlands (1581-1795). Because of this historic dominating position, the name Holland is often applied to incorrectly denote the entire Netherlands. For a short time (1806-1810) however, there was the Napoleonic Kingdom of Holland, which did encompass the entire Netherlands.
The area is today divided between two provinces of the Netherlands: North Holland (Noord-Holland) and South Holland (Zuid-Holland) that were created in 1840.
The name Holland in this and the other entries on this page ultimately stem from holt land ("wooded land"). A popular, but incorrect etymology holds that it is derived from hol land ("hollow land"), inspired by the low-lying geography of both the Dutch and the English region.
At my heart's word it woke,
They sang a Christmas carol both together.
Glory to go/god.html">God on high!
Sing as ye sang upon the first creation,
Shouted for joy.html">joy abroad,
Peace and goodwill to men,
Where friends with joy and mirth
Or dreams of home the solitary rover.
Glory to God! True hearts,
And morning on the snow-clad hills grows grey.
Kindled from loveless night,
That to his grave they bring?
The conqueror and king.
Across the sea, with fire and sword.html">sword,
The lawless Scots they owned him lord,
A conqueror in the field,
A conqueror on his shield.
But he, who ruled by sword and flame,
Like some poor serf without a name,
The minster bells they toll,
May God receive his soul!
With priests that chant a wailing hymn,
To where the painted windows dim
In reverent silence round,
Take house in narrow ground.
While, in the dwelling-place he seeks,
One Asselin FitzArthur speaks,
Is mine,' he cries, `by right.
By lawlessness and might.
Duke William took the land away,
Bury the robber where ye may,
But he will not be stilled,
With noise and strife is filled.
And some cry shame on Asselin,
Some say, it was Duke William's sin,
Lies still and takes no heed.
And this is rest indeed.
Now Asselin at length is won
And let the burial rites go on,
Was killed in Senlac fight,
A Christian grave or rite.
Because he fought for keeping free
No Christian rite nor grave had he
Now he has come to die,
Sufficient space to lie.
THE DEATH OF WILLIAM RUFUS
The Red King's gone a-hunting, in the woods his father made
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