This Day, design'd to spoil the World of Peace,
And accessary to so foul a Crime,
Why should it rest in the Records of Time,
Since stain'd by Treason forfeiting the Place.
O! but those err who would it odious make:
This Day from Danger Britain's Monarch sav'd,
That Day when first the Mischief was conceiv'd,
Let it accurst still clad with Clouds look black.
Then happy Day, to which by Heaven's Decree
(As consecrated) Festual Pomp is due,
Long may thy Saint (a living Martyr) view,
All Hearts for Love of Him to Honour Thee.
More length we wish, but what thou wantst of Light
Shall be by Fire extorted from the night.
William Alexander
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