To the Queen's Majesty

'Mongst those long rowes of crownes that guild your race,
These Royall sages sue for decent place.
The day-break of the nations; their first ray;
When the Dark World dawn'd into Christian D AY
And smil'd i'th' B ABE 's bright face, the purpling Bud
And Rosy dawn of the right Royall blood;
Fair first-fruits of the L AMB . Sure K INGS in this,
They took a kingdom while they gave a kisse.
But the world's Homage, scarse in These well blown,
We read in you (Rare Queen) ripe and full-grown.
For from this day's rich seed of Diadems
Does rise a radiant croppe of Royalle stemms,
A Golden harvest of crown'd heads, that meet
And crowd for kisses from the L AMB 's white feet.
In this Illustrious throng, your lofty floud
Swells high, fair Confluence of all highborn Bloud!
With your bright head whole groves of scepters bend
Their wealthy tops; and for these feet contend.
So swore the L AMB 's dread sire. And so we see't.
Crownes, and the H EADS they kisse, must court these F EET .
Fix here, fair Majesty! May your Heart ne're misse
To reap new C ROWNES and K INGDOMS from that kisse.
Nor may we misse the joy to meet in you
The aged honors of this day still new.
May the great time, in you, still greater be
While all the Y EAR is your E PIPHANY ,
While your each day's devotion duly brings
Three K INGDOMES to supply this day's three K INGS .
Rate this poem: 


No reviews yet.