In peace the glory of the British Court,
Into whose arms the Church, the State, and all
That precious is or sacred, here did fall.
Ages to come that shall your bounty hear
Shall think you mistress of the Indies were,
Though straiter bounds your fortune did confine
In your large heart was found a wealthy mine.
Like the blest oil, the widow’s lasting feast,
Your treasure as you poured it out increased.
While some your beauty, some your bounty sing