19 In this concise despotic way Unhappy Gaphny fell; Which did all honest men affray, 20 Full two good hundred pounds a year, 21 Besides, he gave five hundred pound Who was his bail; one friend he found, 22 But for this horrid murder vile His old friend helped him o'er the stile: 23 With France, fair England's mortal foe, A trade he carried on; Had any other done 't, I trow 24 That he did likewise traitorously, 25 Vast quantities of stores did he Of the king's stores he kept a key, 26 The forfeited estates also, Both real and personal, Did with the stores together go, Fierce Cerberus swallowed all. 27 Meanwhile the soldiers sighed and sobbed, For not one sous had they; His Excellence had each man fobbed, For he had sunk their pay. 28 Nero, without the least disguise, Still favoured, and their robberies 29 The protestants whom they did rob Were forced with patience, like good Job, 30 For he did basely them refuse The Romans still he well did use, 31 Succinctly thus to you I've told, 32 The best of queens he had reviled, He, cruel and ungrateful, smiled 33 Forgetful of the favours kind She had on him bestowed, Like Lucifer his rancorous mind, He loved nor her nor God. 34 But listen, Nero, lend thine ears, 35 Oh! sacred be her memory, 36 Blessed be my sons, and eke all those Who on her praises dwell! She conquered Britain's fiercest foes, 37 All princes, kings, and potentates, All nations, provinces, and states, 38 'In Anna they did all confide, 39 Truth, mercy, justice, did surround In her the Graces all were found, In Anna all complete. 40 She held the sword and balance right, And sought her people's good; In clemency she did delight, Her reign not stained with blood. 41 Her gracious goodness, piety, In all her deeds did shine, 42 Consummate wisdom, meekness all, When they from her fair lips did fall; 43 Ten thousand glorious deeds to crown, 44 This last and godlike act achieved, 45 Leave we in bliss this heavenly saint, Revere, ye just, her urn; Her virtues high and excellent, 46 Commemorate, my sons, the day Which gave great Anna birth: Keep it for ever and for aye, And annual be your mirth!' 47 Illustrious George now fills the throne, Who can his wondrous deeds make known, 48 Thee, favourite Nero, he has deigned Well thou thy honours hast sustained, 49 But pass: These honours on thee laid, Don't Gaphny's blood, which thou hast shed, 50 Oh! is there not, grim mortal, tell, Oh! is there not a heaven, a hell; 51 Can nought change thy obdurate mind? The prophet on thee well refined, 52 How thou art lost to sense and shame, Thy conduct all just men do blame, 53 Dame Justice waits thee, well I ween, Nought can thee from her vengeance screen, |