 | Three Hundred Sonnets |  |
220
JUDGED.
A righteous retribution, stern and swift,A world up-stirring and portentous thing!
The Lord hath stricken thee, thou wicked King,
Whose mad ambition dared usurp thy gift
Of government, to bind upon thy brow
An universal crown; who durst uplift
Thy power, all laws and liberties to bring
Beneath imperial serfdom: yet, as now
Dead,—foil'd and scorn'd and shamed,—how mean art thou!
O Mother England, let the fostering wing
Of Heaven be still thy buckler: other fears
And other foes rise dimly on the sight;
For all the friendliness that now appears,
Stand well on guard, and God defend the right!
| Three Hundred Sonnets | |