VI.
We watch’d her childhood from its earliest hour,
From every word and look blest omens caught;
While that young mind developed all its power,
And rose to energies of loftiest thought.
On her was fix’d the patriot’s ardent eye—
One hope still bloom’d, one vista still was fair;
And when the tempest swept the troubled sky,
She was our dayspring—all was cloudless there;
And oh! how lovely broke on England’s gaze,
E’en through the mist and storm, the fight of distant days.