Clap hands, O happy British clime,
Thrice happy, if thou knew the time
Of this thy happiness:
Wherein thou dost enjoy sweet peace,
With health, and freedom, and increase
Of wealth and godliness.
Thy roses and thy thistles blow,
Thy fields with milk and honey flow,
Thy ships like mountains trace
In Neptune's wat'ry kingdom; and
With traffic they enrich thy land
And goods from every place:
From where the morning wings are spread,
From where the evening's face looks red,
And from the torrid zone:
And from the pole and freezing Bares,
Thou furnishest thyself with wares,
And with provision.
Thou hast no foe to cross thy gain,
Thy altars are not made profane
With vain idolatry:
Thy priests are cloath'd with holinesses,
Thy saints sing all with joyfulness,
And calm security.
Here each man may at leisure dine
Under the shadow of his vine;
Thou hear'st no canons roar:
Thou hear'st not drums and trumpets sound,
Dead carcasses spread not thy ground;
Thy land's not red with gore:
Thy temples' hymns and anthems ring,
And panegyrics to the King
Of this great universe;
Down from thy sounding pulpits fall
God's Word like nectar, who can all
Thy happiness rehearse?
Sure thou art that Parnassus hill,
On which Deucalion did dwell
When all the earth was drowned:
So whil'st the earth now swims in blood,
And men walk through in a crimson flood,
Thy head with peace is crowned.
Here all the Muses with their King,
Bay-browed Apollo sit and sing
Their envied quietness:
So nothing's wanting as we see,
To make thee blest, except it be
Submissive thankfulness.
Here we have just Deucalions
Who make wise men of stupid stones,
And who behind them cast
The love of earth; whose innocence
Keeps off the flood of wars from hence,
So that our hill stands fast.
Much of this happiness we gain
By him, whose sacred brows sustain
The three-fold diadem
Of these sea-grasping Isles, whose ground
Jove's brother doth not only round,
But as his own doth claim.
Great God, prime author of our peace,
Let not this happiness decrease,
But let it flourish still:
Take not thy mercy from this land,
Nor from the man of thy right hand,
So shall we fear no ill.
(From Mel Heliconium: or, Poeticall Honey, Gathered out of The Weeds of Parnassus, 1642)
[Spelling and punctuation modernized]
Deucalion = One of the two survivors of the
Flood that Zeus sent to destroy the Bronze Age world. After floating
for many days, he and his wife Pyrra landed on the mountain of
Parnassus (in central Greece). Deucalion and
his wife repopulated the earth by throwing stones over their
shoulders, which Zeus turned into people.
The mountain of Parnassus was the home of poets and poetry.
the earth now swims in blood = The Thirty Years War involved much of Western Europe (but not Britain) in conflict from 1618 to 1648.
three-fold diadem = Charles ruled the kingdoms of England, Scotland and Ireland.
Jove's brother = Neptune, the Sea God.