Clarence

My Lords, I have by the advice of her Whom I am doubly bound to obey, my parent And my sovereign, called you together. My task is great, my burden heavier Than my unfledged years; Yet with your kind assistance, Lords, I hope England shall dwell in peace; that, while my father Toils in his wars, and turns his eyes on this His native shore, and sees Commerce fly round With his white wings, and sees his golden London And her silver Thames thronged with shining spires And corded ships, her merchants buzzing round Like summer bees, and all the golden cities In his land overflowing with honey, Glory may not be dimmed with clouds of care. Say, Lords, should not our thoughts be first to Commerce? My Lord Bishop, you would recommend us Agriculture?