Roll in exulting melody again;
And bright o’er earth the long majestic line
Of England’s triumphs swept, to rouse all hearts—but thine.
Oh! what a dazzling vision, by the veil
That o’er thy spirit hung, was shut from thee,
When sceptred chieftains throng’d with palms to hail
The crowning isle, th’ anointed of the sea!
Within thy palaces the lords of earth
Met to rejoice—rich pageants glitter’d by,
And stately revels imaged, in their mirth,