 | Songs and Poems |  |
9
THE ROSE OF THE ISLES.
The Crown that encircles Victoria's brow,
Transmitted through ages of fame,
To its claims on our love adds a sweeter one now,
Derived from her sex and her name.
And the Sceptre she wields in her delicate hand,
As she stands in the sunshine of smiles,
Hath a spell to array all the Might of the Land
Around the fair Rose of the Isles!
Transmitted through ages of fame,
To its claims on our love adds a sweeter one now,
Derived from her sex and her name.
And the Sceptre she wields in her delicate hand,
As she stands in the sunshine of smiles,
Hath a spell to array all the Might of the Land
Around the fair Rose of the Isles!
Not a word of division shall burden our breath,
Of the parties or views we prefer;
Howe'er we may differ in feeling or faith,
We are one—in devotion to Her!
Our Charlotte in all but her sadness of doom,
May she live in the sunshine of smiles!
And never may sorrow-blight fall on the bloom
Of the beautiful Rose of the Isles!
Of the parties or views we prefer;
Howe'er we may differ in feeling or faith,
We are one—in devotion to Her!
Our Charlotte in all but her sadness of doom,
May she live in the sunshine of smiles!
And never may sorrow-blight fall on the bloom
Of the beautiful Rose of the Isles!
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