Whitelocke, delight of Mars, the ornament Of gownmen, from thy country being sent, Tribunals languish; Themis sad is led, Sighing under her mourning widow's bed. Without thee suitors in thick crowds do run, Sowing perpetual strife, which once begun, Till happy fate thee home again shall send, Those sharp contentions will have no end. But through the snowy seas and northern ways, When the remoter sun made shortest days, O'er tops of craggy mountains, paths untrod, Where untamed creatures only make abode, Thy love to thy dear country hath thee brought, Ambassador from England. Thou hast sought The Swedish confines buried in frost, Straight wilt thou see the French and Spanish coast; And them fast bind to thy loved Britany In a perpetual league of amity. So wilt thou arbitrator be of Peace, Her pious author; thou wilt cause to cease The sound of war, our ears it shall not pierce; Thou wilt be Chancellor of the universe. Christina, that sweet nymph, no longer shall Detain thee; be thou careful not to fall, Prudent Ulysses, under those delights To which the learned Circe thee invites. Thy chaste Penelope doth call thee slow; Thy friends call for thee home; and they do know New embassies, affairs abroad, at home, Require thy service,--stay till thou dost come. Thou, Keeper of the Seal, dost take away Foreign contentions; thou dost cause to stay The wars of princes. Shut thou Janus' gate, Ambassador of peace to every state." The Queen was much delighted with these and other verses which Whitelocke showed her; read them over several times, and desired copies of them, which Whitelocke sent her; and in this good humour she wished Whitelocke to leave with her a copy of his articles as he had now revised them, and to come to her again the next day, when she would give him a further answer, and, she hoped, to his contentment. [SN: Spain suspected of intriguing against the treaty.]