Thus long she reign’d, admired, if not approved;
Praised, if not honour’d; fear’d, if not beloved; -
When, as the busy days of Spring drew near,
That call’d for all the forecast of the year;
When lively hope the rising crops surveyed,
And April promised what September paid;
When stray’d her lambs where gorse and greenwood grow;
When rose her grass in richer vales below;
When pleased she look’d on all the smiling land,
And view’d the hinds, who wrought at her command;