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 |
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 | A Metrical History of England |  |
“And fate itself her sov'reign pow'r obeyed,
“The wise Eliza, whose directing hand
“Had the great scale of Europe at command;
“And ruled a people that alike disdain,
“Or freedom's ease, or slav'ry's iron chain.”
Smollet's Voltaire.
Collins's Evening Brush.
“Et roseo Veneris fulget in ore decor;
“Adfuit Elizabeth—Juno perculsa refugit,
“Obstupuit Pallas, erubuitque Venus.
Poetry of the Times.
“In wit; tho' Venus vaunt her charms divine;—
“Behold Eliza comes—shamed Juno fled,
“For envy Venus blush'd, and Pallas hung her head.”
Imitated. Vide J. P. Andrews:
“Set out to invade a,
“Quite sure, if they ever came nigh land,
“They cou'd'nt do less
“Than hang up Queen Bess,
“And take their full swing in the Island.”
“Thought to make ducks and drakes
“Of our wealth, but they scarcely cou'd spy land
“Ere our Drake had the luck
“To make their pride duck,
“And stoop to the lads of the Island.”
ELIZABETH.
And bade the merry bells ring round,
While thousands shout to see her crowned?
Eliza.
And gain'd a name, with which to chime,
Perhaps you'll find a better rhyme
Than I, sir?
And cut his head off, (tho' with tears),
Of which, alive, she box'd the ears,
O fie, sir.
Whose suits, however back'd, miscarried;
And yet who doubts a maid she tarried?
Not I, sir.
On beef and beer, not toast and tea,
Whenever hungry they might be,
Or dry, sir?
Said Spain should seal cursed England's doom,
Cried, bless you, let their donships come
And try, sir?
Infusing valour in that host,
Which gave the proud Armada's boast
The lie, sir.
Swore that by G—she wou'd unfrock
A bishop,—and then give his flock
A wiser.
Or any terms too harsh to use,
(And here it costs my flippant muse
A sigh, sir).
Whose malice, cruelty, and spleen,
Doom'd Scotia's dear devoted Queen
To die, sir?
None but most able servants had,
For twice she'd never trust a bad
Adviser?
Could speak in Greek and Latin too,
More than at college ever knew
A sizer?
Who gave to merit power's staff?
(And merit she could see with half
An eye, sir.)
That blaze of art (which arms protect),
By Sidney, Raleigh, Cecil, deck't,
Might vie, sir?
Who first saw Shakespeare's genuine page,
Give truth and nature to the stage?
Eliza.
This mode of question here I drop;
And some of what my muse wou'd sing,
Shall be supplied by Dr. King,
Achieved, this reign, by navigation:—
“Eliza first the sable scene withdrew,
“And to the antient world displayed the new;
“When Burleigh at the helm of state was seen,
“The truest subject to the greatest Queen.
“The Indians, from the Spanish yoke made free,
“Blest the effects of English liberty;
“Drake round the world his sov'reign's honor spread,
“Thro' straits and gulphs immense her fame conveyed.
“Raleigh, with hopes of new discov'ries fir'd,
“And all the depths of human wit inspir'd,
“Mov'd o'er the western world in search of fame,
“Adding fresh glory to Eliza's name;
“Subdu'd new empires, that will records be,
“Immortal, of a Queen's Virginity.”
Britain's Palladuim.
When her Majesty was moved, she swore heartily, and was by no means sparing of her blows;—the history of the chastisements bestowed by her hand, from the first recorded when entering the Tower to certain death as she thought, she dashed her conductors offered cloak from her; to the last bitter shake she bestowed on the malicious Nottingham, including her menacing Sir James Nevil with her fist, when he surprised her playing on the virginals; the blows lavished on her maids of honour, and the box on the ear received by Essex, might afford amusement.—Mary Queen of Scots also accuses her of having beaten a Lady named Scudamore, so violently as to break her finger; and cutting another across the hand with a knife. Civil and Military History of England.
There is a curious letter of the Queen's written to a Bishop of Ely, and preserved in the register of that See; it is in these words:—“Proud Prelate, I understand you are backward in complying “with your agreement: but I would have you know, that “I who made you what you are can unmake you, and if you do “not forthwith fulfil your engagements, by God I will unfrock “you. Your, as you demean yourself, Elizabeth.”—The Bishop had promised to exchange some part of the land belonging to the See, for a pretended equivalent, and did so, but it was in consequence of the above letter. Annual Register, 1761.
SPECIMENS of POETRY, WRITTEN BY QUEEN ELIZABETH.
[“Fain would I climb, yet fear to fall.”]
Sir Walter Raleigh having written in a window, in sight of the Queen,—
“Fain would I climb, yet fear to fall.”[Oh Fortune! how thy restless wavering state]
The following lines she wrote with charcoal on a window-shutter, while under severe restraint at Woodstock:—
Has fraught with cares my troubled wit;
Witness this present prison, whither fate
Has borne me, and the joys I quit.
From bonds, wherein are innocent's inclosed;
Causing the guiltless to be strait reserved,
And freeing those that death had well-deserved;
But by her envy nothing can be wrought,
So God send to my foes all they have thought.
[I grieve, yet dare not shew my discontent]
The succeeding Stanzas, from the Ashmolean Museum, signed “Eliza Regina, upon Mount Zeurs departure,” may serve to show the state of Elizabeth's heart, and the strength of her passions at fifty-two, when, it is supposed, she entertained “an uncontrolable passion, which carried her very absurd lengths,” for the Duke of Anjou, between whom and herself a treaty of marriage had been nearly concluded. Civil and Military History of Great Britain.
I love, and yet am forced to seem to hate;
I seem stark mute, but inwardly do prate.
I am, and not,—I freeze, and am yet burned;
Since from myself my otherself I turned.
Follows me flying; flies when I pursue it;
Stands, and lies by me; does what I have done;
This too familiar care doth make me rue it.
No means I find to rid him from my breast,
Till by the end of things it be supprest.
(For I am soft and made of melting snow);
Or be more cruel, love, or be more kind;
Let me, or float or sink, be high or low.
Or let me live with some more sweet content,
Or die, and so forget what love e'er meant.
| A Metrical History of England | |