Epigram Upon the Golden Medal
Our guard upon the royal side!
On the reverse our beauty’s pride!
Here we discern the frown and smile,
The force and glory of our isle.
In the rich medal, both so like
Immortals stand, it seems antique;
Carved by some master, when the bold
Greeks made their Jove descend in gold,
And Danaë[2] wond’ring at their shower,
Which, falling, storm’d her brazen tower.
Britannia there, the fort in vain
Had batter’d been with golden rain;
Thunder itself had fail’d to pass;
Virtue’s a stronger guard than brass.
[1] ‘Golden Medal’: it is said that a Miss Stewart, the favourite of the unprincipled king, is the original of the figure of Britannia on the medals to which the poet here alludes. [2] Transcriber’s note: The original text has a single dot over the second “a” and another over the “e”, rather than the more conventional diaresis shown here.
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