A Metrical History of England Or, Recollections, in Rhyme, Of some of the most prominent Features in our National Chronology, from the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Commencement of the Regency, in 1812. In Two Volumes ... By Thomas Dibdin |
 | I. |
 | II. |
| 7. |
| 8. |
| 9. |
| 10. |
| 11. |
|
|
| 12. |
 | A Metrical History of England |  |
Eight months of life the little monarch owns,
Whose baby sceptre ruled a brace of thrones;
At Westminster and Paris, crown'd in both,
His subjects take the customary oath.
In both to break it—Soon his foreign crown
Sits loose, his English sceptre beaten down
By party and rebellious civil war,
He proves the splendor of a falling star!
Whose baby sceptre ruled a brace of thrones;
At Westminster and Paris, crown'd in both,
His subjects take the customary oath.
284
Sits loose, his English sceptre beaten down
By party and rebellious civil war,
He proves the splendor of a falling star!
Gloucester as Regent of the realm appears,
During the infant Sovereign's tender years;
Bedford in France not destin'd long to stay,
In Henry's name supports the English sway.
The Dauphin, (who when meaning to be merry,
The English styled “the little King of Berry,”)
Still of his birthright kept encreasing hold,
Nor let his, surely just, pretence take cold.
And now to help him with most wond'rous aid,
From fields obscure, darts forth a village maid;
A shepherdess—her story you may mark,
Told wond'rously in “Southey's Joan of Arc;”
So well indeed—the Imp of Envy fetch it!
That I'm afraid in outline but to sketch it.
During the infant Sovereign's tender years;
Bedford in France not destin'd long to stay,
In Henry's name supports the English sway.
The Dauphin, (who when meaning to be merry,
The English styled “the little King of Berry,”)
Still of his birthright kept encreasing hold,
Nor let his, surely just, pretence take cold.
And now to help him with most wond'rous aid,
From fields obscure, darts forth a village maid;
A shepherdess—her story you may mark,
Told wond'rously in “Southey's Joan of Arc;”
So well indeed—the Imp of Envy fetch it!
That I'm afraid in outline but to sketch it.
285
Poor Joan, who cou'd'nt read, “Oh, spite of spite!”
Has an historian now, who cannot write;
She's to be pitied, but unless I err,
The loss is more to me, than 'twas to her:
Well, be it so, whether I win or lose,
The tale I'll tell, and tell it how I chuse.
Has an historian now, who cannot write;
She's to be pitied, but unless I err,
The loss is more to me, than 'twas to her:
Well, be it so, whether I win or lose,
The tale I'll tell, and tell it how I chuse.
| A Metrical History of England | |