Virtue's triumphant shrine! who dost engage At once three kingdoms in a pilgrimage; Which in ecstatic duty strive to come Out of themselves, as well as from their home; Whilst England grows one camp, and London is Itself the nation, not metropolis, And loyal Kent renews her arts again, Fencing her ways with moving groves of men; Forgive this distant homage, which doth meet Your blest approach on sedentary feet; And though my youth, not patient yet to bear The weight of arms, denies me to appear In steel before you, yet, Great Sir, approve My manly wishes, and more vigorous love; In whom a cold respect were treason to A father's ashes, greater than to you; Whose one ambition 'tis for to be known, By daring loyalty, your Wilmot's son. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...ODE TO TRANQUILLITY by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE AN ELEGY: TO AN OLD BEAUTY by THOMAS PARNELL THE ART OF PRESERVING HEALTH: BOOK 4. THE PASSIONS by JOHN ARMSTRONG MUCKLE-MOU'D MEG by JAMES BALLANTYNE THROUGH; A VISION OF VICTORY by LOUISA SARAH BEVINGTON ON KNOWING WHEN TO STOP by L. J. BRIDGMAN ABER STATIONS: STATIO QUARTA by THOMAS EDWARD BROWN EPISTLE TO MR. M'ADAM; IN ANSWER TO AN OBLIGING LETTER ... by ROBERT BURNS |