"He, viewing England, secretly admires
The happy changes in that powerful realm,
Where the abuse of many a wholesome law
Long wrought mischance to subjects and to kings.
Upon that soil, so stained with noble blood—
Upon that throne, whence kings so oft had slipt,—
A woman at her feet held fate enchained,
Dazzling all eyes with splendours of her reign.
This was Elizabeth, whose potent will,
Now up, now down, the scales of nations swayed,
And made the sturdy Briton love her yoke.
Her people in her time forgot their woes:
The plains are covered with their thriving flocks,
Fields with their wheat, and with their ships the deep.
Feared on the land, their empire is the sea;
Their navy, in its pride, holds Neptune slave,
And summons Fortune from the ends of space.
Their capital, once barbarous, has become
The shrine of art, the storehouse of the world,
The temple of great Mars. Within the walls,
Of Westminster three powers combined appear,
Astonished at the tie which holds them close—
The people's deputies, the lords, the king—
Of interests diverse, but made one by law,—
All sacred parts of that unconquered whole—
Self-menacing, to neighbours terrible.
Much blest whene'er the people, dutiful,
In reverence hold the rights of sovereign power,
More blest whene'er a king, wise, gentle, just,
In reverence holds the people's liberties.
'Ah!' Bourbon cried, 'when shall my countrymen,
Like you, find truest glory in sweet peace?
Take pattern here, O monarchs of the earth!
A woman's hand has closed the gates of war,
And, leaving woe and strife to you, has made
The happiness of these, her worshippers.'"
Henry has an interview with the queen, in which he
