King

O Liberty, how glorious art thou! I see thee hovering o’er my army, with Thy wide-stretched plumes; I see thee Lead them on to battle; I see thee blow thy golden trumpet while Thy sons shout the strong shout of victory! O noble Chandos, think thyself a gardener, My son a vine, which I commit unto Thy care. Prune all extravagant shoots, and guide The ambitious tendrils in the path of wisdom; Water him with thy advice, and Heaven Rain freshening dew upon his branches! And, O Edward, my dear son! learn to think lowly of Thyself, as we may all each prefer other— ’Tis the best policy, and ’tis our duty. [Exit KING EDWARD