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37
THE ROYAL DEAD.
39
In the Church of St. George.
Guard well, St. George, our prince's memory,
High o'er the lustrous pines and sunny bowers,
When dawn climbs up the wave, or when the towers
Of ancient Cannes stand dark against the sea;
And let the weird self-healing olive tree,
Emblem of Life, beyond Death's harmful powers,
Grow round the house of Prayer, and orange flowers
With soft mimosa clouds for incense be.
High o'er the lustrous pines and sunny bowers,
When dawn climbs up the wave, or when the towers
Of ancient Cannes stand dark against the sea;
And let the weird self-healing olive tree,
Emblem of Life, beyond Death's harmful powers,
Grow round the house of Prayer, and orange flowers
With soft mimosa clouds for incense be.
And since his young life's rose, that knew no blame,
Fell here, tho' nursed upon our English shore,
Let the wild woodland rose that blooms for all
Gleam in the rich mosaic evermore,
And every evening's sun make roses fall
Upon the shrine that keeps his honoured name.
Fell here, tho' nursed upon our English shore,
Let the wild woodland rose that blooms for all
Gleam in the rich mosaic evermore,
And every evening's sun make roses fall
Upon the shrine that keeps his honoured name.
All who enter the Memorial Church at Cannes will notice that the emblem of St. George, the English wild rose, has been introduced with beautiful effect into the mosaic of the chancel floor.
40
The Emperor William I.
ON HIS 90TH BIRTHDAY.
Kaiser, and crowned with ninety summers now,
If every stream that babbled to the Rhine
Spake human speech, to-day its praise were thine.
Ageless of heart and zeal—oak-natured thou,
Come forth and let the wondering nations know
How kings may still be kings by power divine,
How monarch's might can people's right enshrine,
And patriot love to royal wisdom bow.
If every stream that babbled to the Rhine
Spake human speech, to-day its praise were thine.
Ageless of heart and zeal—oak-natured thou,
Come forth and let the wondering nations know
How kings may still be kings by power divine,
How monarch's might can people's right enshrine,
And patriot love to royal wisdom bow.
Great worker with the tireless brain and hand,
Head winter-white—Soul Spring with fullest powers,
Unhurt by praise and never warped by blame,
Heaven waits thee, King, but Earth shall keep thy name,
Ours now, when God shall call thee hence still ours,
By all that made and keeps us Fatherland.
Head winter-white—Soul Spring with fullest powers,
Unhurt by praise and never warped by blame,
Heaven waits thee, King, but Earth shall keep thy name,
Ours now, when God shall call thee hence still ours,
By all that made and keeps us Fatherland.
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The Dying Kaiser.
MARCH 8TH, 1888.
Kaiser, with thrice the tale of royal years
That made the new-found Alexander great,
At length thou nearest the mysterious gate
To mingle with the kings of old—thy peers—
And find few mightier. Lo! thy forehead wears
A crown, whence, even in heaven, will scintillate
The rainbow lights of love; thy cloak of state
Is jewelled with a nation's loyal tears.
That made the new-found Alexander great,
At length thou nearest the mysterious gate
To mingle with the kings of old—thy peers—
And find few mightier. Lo! thy forehead wears
A crown, whence, even in heaven, will scintillate
The rainbow lights of love; thy cloak of state
Is jewelled with a nation's loyal tears.
But when the dread rememberable day
Shall call thee from the kingdom thou hast made
To that high court, where kings as subjects stand,
At least the vows we vow, the prayers we pray,
Shall go before through silence and the shade,
And give thee welcome home to Fatherland!
Shall call thee from the kingdom thou hast made
To that high court, where kings as subjects stand,
At least the vows we vow, the prayers we pray,
Shall go before through silence and the shade,
And give thee welcome home to Fatherland!
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The Kaiser at Peace.
MARCH 9TH, 1888.
Now let the Rhine flow sad by tower and lea,
And all the Teuton woods a requiem sing,
Lo! he who made the nation, warrior king,
Bows at the last to death's august decree:
Great freedom-giver, he himself is free;
Freed from the care that crowns shall ever bring,
From weary watch upon the foemen-ring,
From love's last yearning towards the southern sea.
And all the Teuton woods a requiem sing,
Lo! he who made the nation, warrior king,
Bows at the last to death's august decree:
Great freedom-giver, he himself is free;
Freed from the care that crowns shall ever bring,
From weary watch upon the foemen-ring,
From love's last yearning towards the southern sea.
Oh! by the grim Sadowa and Sedan
And those dark violets crushed before his car,
The day faint Paris yielded all but pride,
Weep for a Kaiser, glorious in war,
Warder of home, and Leader in the van
Of Peace: for peace he toiled, in peace he died.
And those dark violets crushed before his car,
The day faint Paris yielded all but pride,
Weep for a Kaiser, glorious in war,
Warder of home, and Leader in the van
Of Peace: for peace he toiled, in peace he died.
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A Brave Empress.
Queen of the weary days and watchful nights,
While all our Europe, bowed about the bed,
Implored the Great Upbringer from the dead
To bring thy Prince and crown him on the heights
Of health—the bravest in his country's fights—
Simplest of men the purple ever bred,
And most unflinching—though above his head
Death, with a cold dark crown, proclaimed its rights.
While all our Europe, bowed about the bed,
Implored the Great Upbringer from the dead
To bring thy Prince and crown him on the heights
Of health—the bravest in his country's fights—
Simplest of men the purple ever bred,
And most unflinching—though above his head
Death, with a cold dark crown, proclaimed its rights.
We knew your worth, for we had known your choice;
We had not felt what courage love could bring,
Until we saw the burghers at your feet
Stand silent for their grief, and heard your voice,
Clear, where their voices failed for tears, repeat
A people's sorrow for their sorrowing king.
We had not felt what courage love could bring,
Until we saw the burghers at your feet
Stand silent for their grief, and heard your voice,
Clear, where their voices failed for tears, repeat
A people's sorrow for their sorrowing king.
Herr von Förkenbeck, the chief burgomaster, in reading the address of condolence from the Town Council of Berlin to the Emperor Frederick and the Empress Victoria at the Castle, on Monday, 13th March, 1888, quite broke down; his voice became choked with tears, whereupon the Empress took the manuscript out of his hand and herself continued the reading of it.
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The Crown of Thorns.
High on the altar lay the cirque of gold,
The heavy crown of kingliness and care,
And he reached out to take it, but the air
Was thick with doubt, and voices manifold
Forewarning, “Sire, thine arms are over bold!”
Then, as his hands sank crownless, he was ware
Of Christ's face, pale and pitiful, in His hair
He saw the thorns they crowned Him with of old.
The heavy crown of kingliness and care,
And he reached out to take it, but the air
Was thick with doubt, and voices manifold
Forewarning, “Sire, thine arms are over bold!”
Then, as his hands sank crownless, he was ware
Of Christ's face, pale and pitiful, in His hair
He saw the thorns they crowned Him with of old.
And at that sign of Christ, so crowned with pain,
So lonely in the sorrow of a King,
So kingly in His sorrow's loneliness,
He felt the strength that could upbear the stress
Of all the pain his crown of thorns would bring,
And dared to claim the kingship and to reign.
So lonely in the sorrow of a King,
So kingly in His sorrow's loneliness,
He felt the strength that could upbear the stress
Of all the pain his crown of thorns would bring,
And dared to claim the kingship and to reign.
The cross was no empty ornament to him; it was the experience of his heart; it was the confession of his mouth. The Emperor related once how in Königsberg when he was to take the crown from the altar and place it on his head his heart trembled, his hand shrunk back, as it were, from the heavy responsibility attached to the crown, till his eye fell on the crown of thorns of his Heavenly King, and this sight strengthened and encouraged him. (See Dr. Kugel's “Funeral Sermons,” as reported in the Standard of March 17th, 1888.)
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Mourners Absent from the Kaiser's Funeral.
MARCH 16TH, 1888.
Prince of the head to think, the soul to feel,
The will to govern, and the hand to guide,
With that twin pillar-statesman at your side,
Who built the nation's wall of guardian steel—
For you we grieve the most. Dark death must heal
The wound Death gave, and lonely in the tide
You still must stand rock-natured, and must hide
A heart that aches for him who gave the Seal.
The will to govern, and the hand to guide,
With that twin pillar-statesman at your side,
Who built the nation's wall of guardian steel—
For you we grieve the most. Dark death must heal
The wound Death gave, and lonely in the tide
You still must stand rock-natured, and must hide
A heart that aches for him who gave the Seal.
But when the torches flamed upon the way—
That sad triumphal way—and cannons' boom
Shook the drear streets walled up to bitter heaven
With signs of woe and faces in dismay,
We thanked our God such friends to kings were given,
Our praises filled the absent mourners' room.
That sad triumphal way—and cannons' boom
Shook the drear streets walled up to bitter heaven
With signs of woe and faces in dismay,
We thanked our God such friends to kings were given,
Our praises filled the absent mourners' room.
Prince Bismarck and Count von Moltke, by special command of the King, were forbidden to risk exposure to the weather during the funeral procession.
46
The Letter of Frederick III. to Prince Bismarck.
“Not caring for the splendour of great deeds
And strife for glory, but with this content
That some day graven on my monument
The humblest child of Fatherland may read,
‘He who the glorious Kaiser did succeed
Was sworn to Peace—his rule beneficent,
He served his people, on their welfare bent
And sowed for generations hence Faith's seed.’”
And strife for glory, but with this content
That some day graven on my monument
The humblest child of Fatherland may read,
‘He who the glorious Kaiser did succeed
Was sworn to Peace—his rule beneficent,
He served his people, on their welfare bent
And sowed for generations hence Faith's seed.’”
Oh, by the palms and laurels 'neath the dome
Where rests before the dark-draped altar shrine
The warrior king who made a nation one,
Did father e'er beget a nobler son?
Had ever people, when their chief went home
A surer pledge of kingliness divine?
Where rests before the dark-draped altar shrine
The warrior king who made a nation one,
Did father e'er beget a nobler son?
Had ever people, when their chief went home
A surer pledge of kingliness divine?
47
The Emperor Frederick.
JUNE 15TH, 1888.
When Europe wept and over east and west
Hung sorrow for the Kaiser gone before,
We prayed that life would seal Death's awful door
And give us back our bravest and our best,
King in his father's room; but that dark guest
Clung to his side, slow poisoned at the core
The heart that cared for all his country's poor,
Thought royal deeds, but never thought of rest.
Hung sorrow for the Kaiser gone before,
We prayed that life would seal Death's awful door
And give us back our bravest and our best,
King in his father's room; but that dark guest
Clung to his side, slow poisoned at the core
The heart that cared for all his country's poor,
Thought royal deeds, but never thought of rest.
Two moons had filled and when the third had waned,
O'ershadowed by the weary travelling earth,
He bowed a head that never yet had owned
Flesh mortal, so he passed; but praise had birth,
Honour for him whom noble suffering crowned,
Love for a King who in Death's court had reigned.
O'ershadowed by the weary travelling earth,
He bowed a head that never yet had owned
Flesh mortal, so he passed; but praise had birth,
Honour for him whom noble suffering crowned,
Love for a King who in Death's court had reigned.
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Frederick III.
1888.
King for a hundred days, a hundred years
Shall not undo the greatness of thy reign,
Lord of a realm no sovran might of pain
Could crush, nor death with its ten thousand fears
Shock; for thy brow that heaven's new glory wears
Was helmed with honour and the high disdain
For all things mean, and by thy life was plain
Love rules in right when love itself forswears.
Shall not undo the greatness of thy reign,
Lord of a realm no sovran might of pain
Could crush, nor death with its ten thousand fears
Shock; for thy brow that heaven's new glory wears
Was helmed with honour and the high disdain
For all things mean, and by thy life was plain
Love rules in right when love itself forswears.
Yet, gentle heart, though hands did never crown
With gold of earth thy weary suffering head,
At least one prince was in thy presence less,
One tyrant found his mastery overthrown—
Death's darkness was as purple round thee shed,
King, by true hope in utter hopelessness.
With gold of earth thy weary suffering head,
At least one prince was in thy presence less,
One tyrant found his mastery overthrown—
Death's darkness was as purple round thee shed,
King, by true hope in utter hopelessness.
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Albert Victor, Duke of Clarence.
JANUARY 14TH, 1892.
Blythe marriage bells already moved the air,
The orange-blossom's scent was on the wind,
Men said no hearts more royal or more kind
Would sway our England's sceptre, and would share
A nation's joy and sorrow. Happy pair,
Blest with the blessing of an equal mind,
That Love had led a higher love to find,—
Love of the people and the people's care!
The orange-blossom's scent was on the wind,
Men said no hearts more royal or more kind
Would sway our England's sceptre, and would share
A nation's joy and sorrow. Happy pair,
Blest with the blessing of an equal mind,
That Love had led a higher love to find,—
Love of the people and the people's care!
Then came another bride, whose icy breath
Is only sweet for those who long to die,
She came, she kissed our Prince and claimed his hand,
And with one long exceeding bitter cry
We cast the hopes and happiness we planned,
Heart-broken, at his feet—Bridegroom of Death!
Is only sweet for those who long to die,
She came, she kissed our Prince and claimed his hand,
And with one long exceeding bitter cry
We cast the hopes and happiness we planned,
Heart-broken, at his feet—Bridegroom of Death!
50
The Crown of Tears.
ST. GEORGE'S CHAPEL, WINDSOR, JANUARY 20TH, 1892.
I heard the solemn ministry to pain
Those muffled drums and wailing trumpets made,
I saw the banners half-mast high displayed,
The slow sad-marching, melancholy train.
The steed, unmounted, went with sable rein
As if he knew the sorrow; cannonade
Came from the Royal slopes, and, overlaid
With flowers, we bore our young Prince home again.
Those muffled drums and wailing trumpets made,
I saw the banners half-mast high displayed,
The slow sad-marching, melancholy train.
The steed, unmounted, went with sable rein
As if he knew the sorrow; cannonade
Came from the Royal slopes, and, overlaid
With flowers, we bore our young Prince home again.
I could not weep, there was so much in mind,
Dark town and towers and gorgeous chapel dim,
The mourning music and the silent bier;
But at the closing of that funeral hymn
One placed the crown a broken heart had twined
There on the coffin—and I felt the tear.
Dark town and towers and gorgeous chapel dim,
The mourning music and the silent bier;
But at the closing of that funeral hymn
One placed the crown a broken heart had twined
There on the coffin—and I felt the tear.
The benediction was pronounced and the mourners rose to leave; the funeral march of Chopin pealed forth from the organ; but before His Royal Highness left the chapel he paused for a moment at the head of his eldest son's coffin, upon which he tenderly placed a small and simple chaplet of flowers. It was from the Princess May.
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