Thus fell on Owen's suffering soul, Woe's full o'erwhelming measure; Thus fell, from Joy's exulting lips, The sparkling cup of Pleasure. SONNET. My Country! first upon the rolls of fame, ISLE OF THE MIGHTY! to thy warlike shores. In those ancient and curious documents, called Trioedd ynys Brydain (Triades of the Isle of Britain) this island is named Clas Merddyn (the Green Isle) after the arrival of Hy Gadarn, or (Hesus the potent) the first settler, y vel ynys (the Honey Island) but afterwards Prydain, of which Britain is the echo (the Fair or Beautiful Isle.) In the British tales, called Mabinogi, the poetical denomination of Ynys y Cedeirn (Isle of the Mighty) is given to it; and every Briton will join me in opinion, that the appellation was never more appropriate than at this proud period. Edred, the tenth King of England, of the Saxon race, in 946, assumed the title of King of Great Britain, but James the First of England, and Sixth of Scotland, that pacific conqueror, that cement of jarring nations, with much more propriety, resumed it. This Prince, says Speed, hath broken down the partition of this great Island, and made the extremities of two kingdoms the very midst of his united empire. I see thee towering from the ambient tides, Hears from thy voice alone, "Fell Monster, stop!" BRITAIN! let Justice still thy annals date, And Time, in Truth's blest voice, shall call thee great. |