 | Works (1916) |  |
XXI. LINES INSCRIBED IN A COPY OF HIS POEMS SENT TO THE QUEEN FOR THE ROYAL LIBRARY AT WINDSOR.
Deign, Sovereign Mistress! to accept a lay,
No Laureate offering of elaborate art;
But salutation taking its glad way
From deep recesses of a loyal heart.
No Laureate offering of elaborate art;
But salutation taking its glad way
From deep recesses of a loyal heart.
Queen, Wife and Mother! may All-judging Heaven
Shower with a bounteous hand on Thee and Thine
Felicity that only can be given
On earth to goodness blest by grace divine.
Shower with a bounteous hand on Thee and Thine
Felicity that only can be given
On earth to goodness blest by grace divine.
Lady! devoutly honoured and beloved
Through every realm confided to thy sway;
May'st thou pursue thy course by God approved,
And He will teach thy people to obey.
Through every realm confided to thy sway;
May'st thou pursue thy course by God approved,
And He will teach thy people to obey.
As thou art wont, thy sovereignty adorn
With woman's gentleness, yet firm and staid;
So shall that earthly crown thy brows have worn
Be changed for one whose glory cannot fade.
With woman's gentleness, yet firm and staid;
So shall that earthly crown thy brows have worn
Be changed for one whose glory cannot fade.
And now by duty urged, I lay this Book
Before thy Majesty, in humble trust
That on its simplest pages thou wilt look
With a benign indulgence more than just.
Before thy Majesty, in humble trust
That on its simplest pages thou wilt look
With a benign indulgence more than just.
Nor wilt thou blame an aged Poet's prayer,
That issuing hence may steal into thy mind
Some solace under weight of royal care,
Or grief—the inheritance of humankind.
That issuing hence may steal into thy mind
Some solace under weight of royal care,
Or grief—the inheritance of humankind.
For know we not that from celestial spheres,
When Time was young, an inspiration came
(Oh were it mine!) to hallow saddest tears
And help life onward in its noblest aim.
When Time was young, an inspiration came
(Oh were it mine!) to hallow saddest tears
And help life onward in its noblest aim.
W. W.
January 9th, 1846.
| Works (1916) | |