Which on the clowds of Thetis liquid skie,
Seeming to frisk about for iollitie,
Stood like safe centinels 'bout England’s shore
Making seas tremble at their cannons rore.
57.
Thus did the heau’ns showre downe felicitie
In ample manner on Elizae’s state,
At which Rome’s holie sire did still enuie,
Who failing in our English home-bred bate,
In foraine shoares shew’d his malignant hate: