English Poetry I: From Chaucer to Gray.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.
William Cartwright
242. On the Queen’s Return from the Low Countries
H
The day shall have its due.
Twist all our victories into one bright wreath,
On which let honour breathe:
Then throw it round the temples of our Queen!
’Tis she that must preserve those glories green.
Received her on the shore;
When she was shot at ‘for the King’s own good’
By legions hired to blood;
How bravely did she do, how bravely bear!
And show’d, though they durst rage, she durst not fear.
Of solemn comeliness:
A gather’d mind and an untroubled face
Did give her dangers grace:
Thus, arm’d with innocence, secure they move
Whose highest ‘treason’ is but highest love.