10TH MARCH, 1863.
An ancient foe has landed on our shore,
But not in victor-plume or captive-chain:
With stronger fetters than were used of yore
We bind the warlike Dane.
Come, Denmark, come in love! The country rings
From end to end, and shouts from side to side,
A British welcome for the day that brings
Our Albert Edward's bride.
'Tis not their royal blood, their princely name,
But that they represent the brave, the free;
They are the nationality, and claim
The nation's bended knee.
Time was when Vice and Folly, raised to thrones,
Got homage. Such a time has England seen.
That day is past, and Britain proudly owns
A Heaven-anointed Queen.
O, Prince of Wales, be happy in your choice,
As she, your queenly mother was; so may
Your wedded love flow with as little noise,
And deepen day by day.
And when the years shall call you to your own—
A kingdom with its sceptre—may you bring
Your father's heart and wisdom to the throne,
And be indeed a king.
