ELIZABETH

Hail, Virgin Queen! o'er many an envious bar

Triumphant, snatched from many a treacherous wile!

All hail, sage Lady, whom a grateful Isle

Hath blest, respiring from that dismal war

Stilled by thy voice! But quickly from afar

Defiance breathes with more malignant aim;

And alien storms with home-bred ferments claim

Portentous fellowship.Her silver car,

By sleepless prudenceruled, glides slowly on;

Unhurt by violence, from menaced taint

Emerging pure, and seemingly more bright:

Ah! wherefore yields it to a foul constraint

Black as the clouds its beams dispersed, while shone,

By men and angels blest, the glorious light?