Under a throne I saw a virgin sit, The red and white rose quartered in her face; Star of the north, and for true guards to it, Princes, church, states, all pointing out her grace. The homage done her was not born of wit; Wisdom admired, zeal took ambition's place, State in her eyes taught order how to fit And fix confusion's unobserving race. Fortune can here claim nothing truly great, But that this princely creature is her seat. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...EPITAPH ON A JACOBITE by THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY INDIFFERENCE by EDNA ST. VINCENT MILLAY WALT WHITMAN by FRANCIS HOWARD WILLIAMS SPANISH WINGS: SENOR by H. BABCOCK MY HERO; TO ROBERT GOULD SHAW by BENJAMIN GRIFFITH BRAWLEY THE WANDERER: 5. IN HOLLAND: MACROMICROS by EDWARD ROBERT BULWER-LYTTON |