“That woman was my mother—I the child!

Of you unknown by name she late and air,[103]

Spoke, wept, and ever blessed you in her prayer,

Ev’n to her death; describing you withal

A well-looked florid youth, blue-eyed and tall.”

They rose, exchanged embrace: the old lion then

Upstarted, metamorphosed, from his den;

Saying, “Come and make thy home with us for life,

Heaven-sent preserver of my child and wife.

I fear thou’rt poor, that Hanoverian thing