Boadicea: An Ode

WHEN the British warrior queen, Bleeding from the Roman rods, Sought, with an indignant mien, Counsel of her country’s gods, Sage beneath a spreading oak Sat the Druid, hoary chief; Every burning word he spoke Full of rage, and full of grief. ‘Princess! if our aged eyes Weep upon thy matchless wrongs, ’Tis because resentment […]