Ere Greece was known, or Britain had a name,
My princely first might vie with Britain’s fame.
On every sea she saw her navies sail,
Her milk-white canvas fann’d by every gale,
And, Lord of Britain’s now imperial wave,
Our earliest commerce, laws, and language gave.
Less proud, but not less prized, my next shall be.
The humbler type of patient industry.
Far from our sight, she plans her lowly walls.
Her winding galleries, subterraneous halls,
Yet Timour, all the Eastern world his own,
Thank’d her mute lessons for his life and throne.
My whole in Greece a monarch’s honour’d name,
Now brands the despot with eternal shame,
Yet Europe lately trembled at his call,
United Europe triumph’d in its fall.