Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold By "F. Harald Williams"[i.e. F. W. O. Ward]. First Edition |
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OUR LOST LADY OF HONOUR. |
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 | Matin Bells and Scarlet and Gold |  |
OUR LOST LADY OF HONOUR.
The great Queen is past, the good Queen is dead,
Cross the pure hands and cover the head;
Speak softly and slowly
And bend the face lowly,
And move about dimly with tears in the tread;
For the fair Queen is dead.
Lilies and snowdrops for her, and the favour
Of roses and violets in one dear savour;
Because she was sweet,
Because she was fair,
With the sunshine her hair
And the music her feet.
While her words fell as kisses upon our cold lives,
And our bustle and clamour,
With a blessing and glamour,
And drew closer the bonds between husband and wives;
O the breath of her mouth was a murmurous song
With the dew of the mountains
And the joy of the fountains,
It fired us with duty and fashioned us strong.
But the great Queen has past,
The good Queen is dead,
And the silence is spread
On her glory at last.
Cross the pure hands and cover the head;
Speak softly and slowly
And bend the face lowly,
And move about dimly with tears in the tread;
For the fair Queen is dead.
109
Of roses and violets in one dear savour;
Because she was sweet,
Because she was fair,
With the sunshine her hair
And the music her feet.
While her words fell as kisses upon our cold lives,
And our bustle and clamour,
With a blessing and glamour,
And drew closer the bonds between husband and wives;
O the breath of her mouth was a murmurous song
With the dew of the mountains
And the joy of the fountains,
It fired us with duty and fashioned us strong.
But the great Queen has past,
The good Queen is dead,
And the silence is spread
On her glory at last.
The great Queen has past, the good Queen is pale
As the moonlight that lies on the breast of the vale:
She was proud with the beauty
That comes as a duty,
And shines but on brows bravely fronting the gale;
O the good Queen is pale.
Crown not of gold for our Lady of honour,
Crown of the love that befits the Madonna
Who builded us high,
And with beautiful girth
Joining Heaven to earth
Brought Divinity nigh.
For she looked on our heroes, and splendid they sprang
To the front of the striving,
Where the red swords were riving
And the steel meeting steel gave a jubilant clang;
While the statesman arose, with a vision that saw
Down the broadening ages
The passionate pages,
And struck with his pen the grand sentence of law.
But the great Queen has past,
The good Queen is pale,
And our epical tale
Is a sky overcast.
As the moonlight that lies on the breast of the vale:
She was proud with the beauty
That comes as a duty,
And shines but on brows bravely fronting the gale;
O the good Queen is pale.
Crown not of gold for our Lady of honour,
Crown of the love that befits the Madonna
Who builded us high,
And with beautiful girth
Joining Heaven to earth
Brought Divinity nigh.
For she looked on our heroes, and splendid they sprang
To the front of the striving,
Where the red swords were riving
And the steel meeting steel gave a jubilant clang;
While the statesman arose, with a vision that saw
Down the broadening ages
The passionate pages,
And struck with his pen the grand sentence of law.
But the great Queen has past,
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And our epical tale
Is a sky overcast.
The great Queen has past, the good Queen has fled,
With the love in her eyes and the glory she shed,
Who came at our calling
And kept us from falling,
If we only would follow where boldly she led;
But the fair Queen has fled.
Grave not of marble for her but of blessing,
Poured from the heart of a people's confessing
Who have grown with her great,
If they sometimes rebell'd,
As her courage upheld
Their imperial fate.
For she breathed on the prelate, and truly he spoke
With the spirit of nations
And august inspirations,
Till the will of the country was one and awoke;
And the churchman stept out with a statelier plan,
And discerned the bright border
Of a world-shaping order,
And entered it feeling new Eden began.
But the great Queen has past,
The good Queen has fled,
And the Empire is sped
As with Azrael's blast.
With the love in her eyes and the glory she shed,
Who came at our calling
And kept us from falling,
If we only would follow where boldly she led;
But the fair Queen has fled.
Grave not of marble for her but of blessing,
Poured from the heart of a people's confessing
Who have grown with her great,
If they sometimes rebell'd,
As her courage upheld
Their imperial fate.
For she breathed on the prelate, and truly he spoke
With the spirit of nations
And august inspirations,
Till the will of the country was one and awoke;
And the churchman stept out with a statelier plan,
And discerned the bright border
Of a world-shaping order,
And entered it feeling new Eden began.
But the great Queen has past,
The good Queen has fled,
And the Empire is sped
As with Azrael's blast.
The great Queen has past, the good Queen is gone,
With the promise that like an eternity shone
Round her pathway of plenty,
When the one fared as twenty,
And still the dead kingdom drags wearily on;
Though the fair Queen is gone.
For the lip of the maiden has lost its clear carol,
And the spot that is nameless defiles her apparel;
And the modesty now,
That leapt up without shame
Like the altar's white flame,
Is dethroned from her brow.
And the Senate is bought and the leader is sold
For the baubles of places,
And the doom of disgraces
With the might that to-morrow new purchasers hold;
And the brand of the huckster has cheapened the shrine
With the souls that are bartered
And the trafficking chartered,
While the priests toy with women and trifle with wine.
But the great Queen is past,
The good Queen is gone,
And in new Babylon
Is no mourning or fast.
With the promise that like an eternity shone
Round her pathway of plenty,
When the one fared as twenty,
And still the dead kingdom drags wearily on;
Though the fair Queen is gone.
For the lip of the maiden has lost its clear carol,
And the spot that is nameless defiles her apparel;
And the modesty now,
That leapt up without shame
Like the altar's white flame,
Is dethroned from her brow.
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For the baubles of places,
And the doom of disgraces
With the might that to-morrow new purchasers hold;
And the brand of the huckster has cheapened the shrine
With the souls that are bartered
And the trafficking chartered,
While the priests toy with women and trifle with wine.
But the great Queen is past,
The good Queen is gone,
And in new Babylon
Is no mourning or fast.
The great Queen has past, the good Queen is cold,
Carry her out as clay for the mould,
All that was splendour,
All that was tender,
Not to be paid for by silver and gold;
For the fair Queen is cold.
But we seek her not now, and we serve her not longer,
And our bulwarks are weakness—our arms that struck stronger,
When our Mistress was dear
As the jewel of life,
And religion no strife
But magnificent fear.
Now the feastings are sordid, the toil has a taint,
While our virtue is venal
And plain honesty penal,
And the sinner leers out from the mask of the saint.
Ah, our meetings and doings are matters for hire,
And we advertise marriage
For the price of a carriage
And a coronet trailed in the gutter and mire.
But the great Queen has past,
The good Queen is cold,
And her story is told,
Though the world stands aghast.
Carry her out as clay for the mould,
All that was splendour,
All that was tender,
Not to be paid for by silver and gold;
For the fair Queen is cold.
But we seek her not now, and we serve her not longer,
And our bulwarks are weakness—our arms that struck stronger,
When our Mistress was dear
As the jewel of life,
And religion no strife
But magnificent fear.
Now the feastings are sordid, the toil has a taint,
While our virtue is venal
And plain honesty penal,
And the sinner leers out from the mask of the saint.
Ah, our meetings and doings are matters for hire,
And we advertise marriage
For the price of a carriage
And a coronet trailed in the gutter and mire.
But the great Queen has past,
The good Queen is cold,
And her story is told,
Though the world stands aghast.
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