PANEGYRICK TO MY LORD PROTECTOR by EDMUND WALLER

While with a strong, and yet a gentle hand,
You bridle faction, and our hearts command,
Protect us from ourselves, and from the foe,
Make us unite, and make us conquer too;
Let partial spirits still aloud complain,
Think themselves injur'd that they cannot reign;
And own no liberty, but where they may
Without control upon their fellows prey.
Above the waves, as Neptune show'd his face,
To chide the winds, and save the Trojan race,
So has your Highness, rais'd above the rest,
Storms of ambition tossing us represt.
Your drooping country, torn with civil hate,
Restor'd by you, is made a glorious state:
The seat of empire, where the Irish come,
And the unwilling Scots, to fetch their doom.
The sea's our own; and now, all nations greet,
With bending sails, each vessel of our fleet;
Your power extends as far as winds can blow,
Or swelling sails upon the globe may go.
Heav'n (that hath plac'd this island to give law,
To balance Europe, and her states to awe,)
In this conjunction doth on Britain smile,
The greatest leader, and the greatest isle!
Whether this portion of the world were rent,
By the rude ocean, from the continent,
Or thus created; it was sure design'd
To be the sacred refuge of mankind.
Hither th' oppress'd shall henceforth resort,
Justice to crave, and succour, at your court;
And then your Highness, not for ours alone,
But for the world's protector shall be known.
Fame, swifter than your winged navy, flies,
Through ev'ry land that near the ocean lies;
Sounding your name, and telling dreadful news
To all that piracy and rapine use.
With such a chief the meanest nation bless'd,

Might hope to lift you to an equal height,
And, like white eagles of the north, delight
To stoop and seize upon your quarry right:
So we descend to sing; descended, fall
Like those who, standing on some eminence tall,
Salute the sun, and, with a voice that flies
To the remotest borders of the skies,
Congratulate the eastern monarch's rise:
But, as the evening comes, are heard no more;
So, when you once have reached a British shore,
We silent are, and praise you as before.

Classic and Contemporary Poetry

Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!

Other Poems of Interest...