 | 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition |  |
THE GRAND OLD WOMAN.
Talk of woman, as you will,
She's a splendid creature,
Whether with a golden till,
Or a Grace in feature;
But, for subjects, there is one
We delight to honour,
Who has nothing dirty done,
Pure as a Madonna;
Queen Victoria (bless her name!)
Has a heart all human,
Without fear and without blame—
She's the Grand Old Woman.
She's a splendid creature,
Whether with a golden till,
Or a Grace in feature;
But, for subjects, there is one
We delight to honour,
Who has nothing dirty done,
Pure as a Madonna;
Queen Victoria (bless her name!)
Has a heart all human,
Without fear and without blame—
She's the Grand Old Woman.
Fifty years and more have proved,
In their service loyal
To her country, she is moved
By a nature Royal;
Fifty years and more, that brought
Cares and snares not lighter,
Yet for her have only wrought
Crown of glory brighter;
Fifty years and more have past,
Left her richly human—
Wife and Mother—to the last,
She's the Grand Old Woman.
In their service loyal
To her country, she is moved
By a nature Royal;
Fifty years and more, that brought
Cares and snares not lighter,
784
Crown of glory brighter;
Fifty years and more have past,
Left her richly human—
Wife and Mother—to the last,
She's the Grand Old Woman.
Queens there are of every kind,
Some devoid of feeling,
Pulling down the window blind
At the first appealing;
Closing to the shutters hard
On the precious pocket,
If a beggar or a bard
Thinks he may unlock it;
Some are feminine in name
Merely, ours is human
Through and through her kindly frame—
She's the Grand Old Woman.
Some devoid of feeling,
Pulling down the window blind
At the first appealing;
Closing to the shutters hard
On the precious pocket,
If a beggar or a bard
Thinks he may unlock it;
Some are feminine in name
Merely, ours is human
Through and through her kindly frame—
She's the Grand Old Woman.
Long may good Victoria live
Yet, and with affection
Such as Royalty can give,
Show us God's direction;
Till, the soul no baseness thralled,
Soul the peril nigher
More heroic found, is called
To a kingdom higher;
True to trust upon her laid,
True with weakness human,
True in debts of duty paid—
She's the Grand Old Woman.
Yet, and with affection
Such as Royalty can give,
Show us God's direction;
Till, the soul no baseness thralled,
Soul the peril nigher
More heroic found, is called
To a kingdom higher;
True to trust upon her laid,
True with weakness human,
True in debts of duty paid—
She's the Grand Old Woman.
| 'Twixt Kiss and Lip or Under the Sword. By the author of "Women Must Weep," [i.e. F. W. O. Ward] Third edition | |