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 I. 
TO THE MEMORY OF A GREAT QUEEN
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TO THE MEMORY OF A GREAT QUEEN

I

When time sinks fainting, when pain's race is run,
When freedom's trumpet rings from pole to pole
And crime's stupendous storm-clouds cease to roll
In blood-red ridges, blotting out the sun:
When spirit at last with passionate sense is one
And through stern matter gleams the conquering soul:
When close upon us towers the ages' goal
And earth seems now a heavenly sphere begun:
Then shall we know why God, who gave to France
The matchless music of one song supreme,
And gave to Italy grim Dante's dream,
And bade the world bow down to Goethe's glance,
Made Shakespeare's England stronger, fairer far
Her face a warrior's, and her soul a star.