Most sacred Majesty, whose great deserts Thy Subject England, nay, the World, admires: Which Heaven grant still increase: O may your Praise, Multiplying with your hours, your Fame still raise; Embrace your Counsel; Love, with Faith, them guide, That both, as one, bench by each other’s side. So may your life pass on and run so even, That your firm zeal plant you a Throne in Heaven, Where smiling Angels shall your guardians be From blemished Traitors, stained with Perjury: And as the night’s inferiour to the day, So be all earthly Regions to your sway.