IV
England, I trust thee. What thy soul hath planned
Will be performed; and towards that last long end
Thou hast not wavered since thou first did’st send
Ship hot on ship, by freemen freely manned,
Over the sea to France’s sacred strand.
Faithful thou art, and knowest well to blend
Patience with resolution, and to lend
To thy heart’s aim thy gauntleted right hand.
This in the main. And yet the enterprise
Articulated, mocks the purposed whole
With fitful effort; and the dread doth loom,
As each fresh crisis darkens all the skies,
That the Disruptive in thy restless soul,
Become habitual, is become thy doom.
Hesepe, 28th June