At the Grave of a Spanish Friend Here lies who of two mighty realms was free; The English-Spaniard, who lived England's good With such a Spain of splendour in the blood As, flaming through our cold utility, Fired the north oak to the Hesperian tree, And flower'd and fruited the unyielding wood That stems the storms and seas. Equal he stood Between us, and so fell. Twice happy he On earth: and surely in new Paradise, Ere we have learn'd the phrase of those abodes, Twice happy he whom earthly use has given, Of all the tongues our long confusion tries, That noblest twain wherein the listening gods Patient discern the primal speech of Heaven. |
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