The body of great Elizabeth lies here; To Britons' foes the scourge, to Britons dear. Up to her chin in ruff the waxen figure stands, Grasping the globe and sceptre with both hands. Interred beneath this place the body lies, But well-earned fame and honour never dies. To name her great exploits would be absurd; There she stands in wax and here she lies interred.
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