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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416350" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>To His Royal Highness The Prince Of Wales</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">While secret-leaguing nations frown around,<br>Ready to pour the long-expected storm; <br>While she, who wont the restless Gaul to bound,<br>Britannia, drooping, grows an empty form;<br>While on our vitals selfish parties prey,<br>And deep corruption eats our soul away;</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Yet in the Goddess of the Main appears<br>A gleam of joy, gay-flushing every grace,<br>As she the cordial voice of millions hears,<br>Rejoicing, zealous, o'er thy rising race:<br>Straight her rekindling eyes resume their fire,<br>The Virtues smile, the Muses tune the lyre.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">But more enchanting than the Muse's song,<br>United Britons thy dear offspring hail;<br>The city triumphs through her glowing throng,<br>The shepherd tells his transport to the dale;<br>The sons of roughest toil forget their pain,<br>And the glad sailor cheers the midnight main.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">Can aught from fair Augusta's gentle blood,<br>And thine, thou friend of liberty! be born;<br>Can aught save what is lovely, generous, good;<br>What will, at once, defend us, and adorn?<br>From thence, prophetic joy! new Edwards eyes,<br>New Henries, Annas, and Elizas rise.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">May fate my fond devoted days extend,<br>To sing the promised glories of thy reign!<br>What though, by years depressed, my muse might bend,<br>My heart will teach her still a nobler strain:<br>How, with recovered Britain, will she soar,<br>When France insults, and Spain shall rob no more.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=James+Thomson">James Thomson</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=416350" data-title="To His Royal Highness The Prince Of Wales de James Thomson" data-description="While secret-leaguing nations frown around,
Ready to pour the long-expected storm; 
While she, who wont the restless Gaul to bound,
Britannia, drooping, grows an empty form;
While on our vitals selfish parties prey,
And deep corruption eats our so..."></div>
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