With no less pride, upon his bed of state,
A Lily, pale with envy, look'd that way;
With humble flowers, encompass'd round he sate,
And scorn'd the sceptre at her feet to lay.
To arms, with thorns and prickles, they prepare
And each designs to try it out by war;
Till on good counsel, they in rule combine:
So in your face, the lovely White and Red,
Cynthia, I see all quarrels banish�d,
And Rose and Lily do in empire join
-Philip Ayres