Come hither, England's hope.
If secret powers
Suggest but truth to my divining thoughts, This pretty lad will prove our country's bliss. His looks are full of peaceful majesty,
His head by nature framed to wear a crown, His hand to wield a sceptre, and himself Likely in time to bless a regal throne.
Make much of him, my lords, for this is he Must help you more than you are hurt by me.
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