h ill frail nature will be mov'd,
I'll bear it well: (O strengthen me to bear!)
And if my piety may claim thy care;
If I remember'd, in youth's giddy heat,
And tumult of a court, a future state;
O favour, when thy mercy I implore
For one who never guilty sceptre bore!
'Twas I receiv'd the crown; my lord is free;
If it must fall, let vengeance fall on me.
Let him survive, his country's name to raise,
And in a guilty land to speak thy praise!
O may th' indulgence of a father's love,
Pour'd forth on me, be doubled from above!
If these are safe, I'll think my prayers succeed,
And bless thy tender mercies, whilst I bleed."
'Twas now the mournful eve before that day
In which the queen to her full wrath gave way;
Thro' rigid justice, rush'd into offence,
And drank in zeal the blood of innocence:
The sun went down in clouds, and seem'd to mourn
The sad necessity of his return;
The hollow wind, and melancholy rain,
Or did, or was imagin'd to, complain:
The tapers cast an inauspicious light;
Stars there were none, and doubly dark the night.
Sweet innocence in chains can take her rest;
Soft slumber gently creeping through her breast,
She sinks; and in her sleep is reinthron'd,
Mock'd by a gaudy dream, and vainly crown'd.
She views her fleets and armies, seas and land,
And stretches wide her shadow of command:
With royal purple is her vision hung;
By phantom hosts are shouts of conquest rung;
Low at her feet the suppliant rival lies;
Our prisoner mourns her fate, and bids her rise.
Now level beams upon the waters play'd,
Glanc'd on the hills, and westward cast the shade;
The busy trades in city had began
To sound, and speak the painful life of man.
In tyrants' breasts the thoughts of vengeance rouse,
And the fond bridegroom turns him to his spouse.
At this first birth of light, while morning breaks,
Our spouseless bride, our widow'd wife, awakes;
Awakes, and smiles; nor night's imposture blames;
Her real pomps were little more than dreams;
A short-liv'd blaze, a lightning quickly o'er,
That died in birth, that shone, and were no more:
She turns her side, and soon resumes a state
Of mind, well suited to her alter'd fate,
Serene, though serious; when dread tidings come
(Ah wretched Guilford!) of her instant doom.
Sun, hide thy beams; in clouds as black as night
Thy face involve; be guiltless of the sight;
Or h