How light soe’er be the word that hath flitted
From thy lips, it is weighty, as coming from thee.
To thy keeping a nation’s weal is committed:
Of thy deeds, good or ill, many watchers there be.
Be thy spirit a flower of chivalry.
If thou wilt that report true-royal declare thee,
No niggard be thou: like a wise timoneer
Thy sails spread wide, that the breeze may bear thee
Onward. Let time-serving guile not ensnare thee
By flattery, friend! Nought save the sincere
Praise that, when mortals are no more here,