 | Poems, in English, Scotch, and Latin |  |
72
JUS DIVINUM.
Where is there to be found a fool so arrant,As to deny that I'm the Lord's vicegerent?
For who can say that e'er I have been slack,
To burn, rob, murder, ravish, hew, and hack?
Who is there dares my regal right to doubt,
But trembles for Siberia or the knout,
Proving I am, the just, the mild, the good,
The Lord's anointed—with my husband's blood?
Katherine.
| Poems, in English, Scotch, and Latin | |