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Valete

Tennyson and other Memorial Poems by H. D. Rawnsley
 

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Frederick III.
 
 
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48

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.
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.