Classic Poem

E NGLAND and Scotland and the land of France,
Those girt with ocean, this with mountains blue,
When you were born, as ancient gossips do,
Stood round your cradle, royal disputants.

France, Scotland, England, each made haste to advance
Her claim, demanding you as her just due,
The while you favored France, methinks, for you
Were fain to choose her towns for crown to enhance

Your fair head's beauty. To Jove's throne serene
They take appeal—and he to each allots
This just decree, granting each one's demand:

That you should be three months Fair England's Queen,
Then for three following months be Queen of Scots,
And then be Queen six months of the French land.