ROUND thy Coasts, Fair Nymph of @3Britain@1, For thy Guard our Waters flow: @3Proteus@1 all his Herds admitting On thy Greens to Graze below. Foreign Lands thy Fishes Tasting Learn from thee Luxurious Fasting. 1 For Folded Flocks, on Fruitful Plains, The Shepherds and the Farmers Gains, Fair @3Britain@1 all the world outvyes; And @3Pan@1, as in @3Arcadia@1 reigns Where Pleasure mixt with Profit lyes. 2 Though @3Jasons@1 Fleece was Fam'd of old, The @3British@1 Wool is growing Gold; No Mines can more of Wealth supply: It keeps the Peasant from the Cold, And takes for Kings the @3Tyrian@1 Dye. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HEROD'S LAMENT FOR MARIAMNE by GEORGE GORDON BYRON THE EXCHANGE by SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE THE MAGNETIC MOUNTAIN: 32 by CECIL DAY LEWIS ARMS AND THE BOY by WILFRED OWEN THE STORY OF ZERBIN AND ISABELLA, FR. ORLANDO FURIOSO by LUDOVICO (LODOVICO) ARIOSTO |