ON THE QUEEN'S RETURN FROM THE LOW COUNTRIES

by: William Cartwright (1611-1643)

      ALLOW the threshold, crown the posts anew!
      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 these glories green.
       
      When greater tempests than on sea before
      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.
       
      Courage was cast about her like a dress
      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.

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