 | English Roses |  |
THE YOUNG PRINCE.
23rd June, 1094.
O Heir of England's greatness and the power
Which justice metes the land,
By others vainly striven for but the dower
Held in thy baby hand,
God-moulded to command,
An empire leans on thee as on a tower;
Thou last and least, yet grandest of possessors
Enriched by every age,
Begin thy splendid stage,
Which opes a seat among thy dread assessors,
Armed with that awe the terror of transgressors,
Thy hope and heritage.
Which justice metes the land,
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Held in thy baby hand,
God-moulded to command,
An empire leans on thee as on a tower;
Thou last and least, yet grandest of possessors
Enriched by every age,
Begin thy splendid stage,
Which opes a seat among thy dread assessors,
Armed with that awe the terror of transgressors,
Thy hope and heritage.
Born to a freedom which is sadly sought
By myriads, but thy right
Upon the anvil of the centuries wrought
Red-hot to tempered might,
And the calm orbèd light
Of equal law by blood and iron bought;
We cannot give thy brows a brighter glory
Than this, long handed down,
Buttressed by sword and gown,
And wrung as charter from the arena gory,
Where heroes fought and statesmen made the story,
To be our England's crown.
By myriads, but thy right
Upon the anvil of the centuries wrought
Red-hot to tempered might,
And the calm orbèd light
Of equal law by blood and iron bought;
We cannot give thy brows a brighter glory
Than this, long handed down,
Buttressed by sword and gown,
And wrung as charter from the arena gory,
Where heroes fought and statesmen made the story,
To be our England's crown.
To thee we tender as a solemn trust
Our old unsullied fame,
The shield that never may take spot or rust,
To mingle with thy name,
And still abide the same—
Deathless, though kingdoms fall and thrones be dust.
Take it, and guard our honour as a jewel
To shine in darkest needs,
The bulwark of our creeds,
If trials fall and fortune waxing cruel,
Break blessed ties and make foundations fuel—
Hold England's title deeds.
Our old unsullied fame,
The shield that never may take spot or rust,
To mingle with thy name,
And still abide the same—
Deathless, though kingdoms fall and thrones be dust.
Take it, and guard our honour as a jewel
To shine in darkest needs,
The bulwark of our creeds,
If trials fall and fortune waxing cruel,
Break blessed ties and make foundations fuel—
Hold England's title deeds.
Keep as thy birthright that fine fear of God,
Better than sword and shield,
Whereby our fathers in their triumph trod
Senate or battle field,
Who only thus would yield
The homage granted to no tyrant's rod;
For promise of more noble generations
Rising from conquered harms,
And fairer women's charms,
The destinies of worlds and unborn nations,
Hang on thy baby arms.
Better than sword and shield,
Whereby our fathers in their triumph trod
Senate or battle field,
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The homage granted to no tyrant's rod;
For promise of more noble generations
Rising from conquered harms,
And fairer women's charms,
The destinies of worlds and unborn nations,
Hang on thy baby arms.
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