To the Empress

Proud may be all who fairly claim
Montijo's unpolluted name,
Altho' I neither love nor hate
Those whom the vulgar call the great,
My heart is rais'd as bends my knee.
Bright lodestar of thy sex, to thee.

She whom my Stopford boasts for his
Thy girlish smile afar must miss.
On high Castilia's breezy plains
Loved by thy mother she remains,
And makes her at some hours forget
Her loss, and find a daughter yet.

These homely words each courtier bard
Around thee would with scoffs discard.
Wishes are left : of what ? Of wealth ?
There is enough where there is health ;
Of glory ? there where God approves
The woman whom a nation loves.
Unvaried be henceforth thy life,
Be blest as mother, blest as wife ;
With friends in every state sit down,
Nor feel the burden of a crown.