 | Poems and Songs by E. H. B. [i.e. E. H. Bickersteth] |  |
104
WRITTEN ON THE OCCASION OF QUEEN VICTORIA'S VISIT TO THE CITY OF LONDON,
NOVEMBER 9th, 1837.
Hail! hail! all hail, fair Queen!—the Isles afar
Greet the mild radiance of bright Brunswick's star.
Thy people's hope—great London's proudest boast—
O'er hearts an empress—as thou reign'st a toast!—
Deign to accept the offering which we bring,
The hearts we proffer, and the praise we sing.
Greet the mild radiance of bright Brunswick's star.
Thy people's hope—great London's proudest boast—
O'er hearts an empress—as thou reign'st a toast!—
Deign to accept the offering which we bring,
The hearts we proffer, and the praise we sing.
In Gothic Hall the sumptuous feast is spread,
We wait thy presence light o'er all to shed.
What is the jewelled cup—the golden bowl—
The gorgeous robes—the beamings of the soul—
The minstrel's art, and music's echoed note—
The blazing stars, where banners proudly float—
The wreath of dewy flowers?—Wert thou not here,
Lo! night would darken o'er the bounteous cheer;
And all the stores from Nature's bosom riven,
The Tyrian dye—hues caught from yon far heaven—
Soft tones of melting harmony, which bring
Quick to the eye the tear from memory's spring—
All the enraptur'd feelings, which still flow
O'er sterner thoughts which patriots only know,
These—these would fail—untouched the viands remain,
The ruby wine-cup stand unquaffed—in vain
The list'ning ear—warm heart—and speaking eye—
All—all would languish, if thou wert not nigh.
We wait thy presence light o'er all to shed.
What is the jewelled cup—the golden bowl—
The gorgeous robes—the beamings of the soul—
The minstrel's art, and music's echoed note—
The blazing stars, where banners proudly float—
The wreath of dewy flowers?—Wert thou not here,
Lo! night would darken o'er the bounteous cheer;
And all the stores from Nature's bosom riven,
The Tyrian dye—hues caught from yon far heaven—
105
Quick to the eye the tear from memory's spring—
All the enraptur'd feelings, which still flow
O'er sterner thoughts which patriots only know,
These—these would fail—untouched the viands remain,
The ruby wine-cup stand unquaffed—in vain
The list'ning ear—warm heart—and speaking eye—
All—all would languish, if thou wert not nigh.
Fair maid!—from royal race—how honoured—sprung,
By Britons' bosoms be thy pæans sung.
Queen of the Sea!—thy ships as castles rise,
And British flags wave upwards to the skies,
Rule o'er the world, and find each port a home,
Where commerce smiles, and tempts them still to roam;—
Be thy reign crowned with glory—good as great—
Worthy the freedom of a polished state,
May every bliss thine onward path pursue,
Proud England's Queen! the nations look to you.
By Britons' bosoms be thy pæans sung.
Queen of the Sea!—thy ships as castles rise,
And British flags wave upwards to the skies,
Rule o'er the world, and find each port a home,
Where commerce smiles, and tempts them still to roam;—
Be thy reign crowned with glory—good as great—
Worthy the freedom of a polished state,
May every bliss thine onward path pursue,
Proud England's Queen! the nations look to you.
| Poems and Songs by E. H. B. [i.e. E. H. Bickersteth] | |