 | Introductory Poem to Queen Victoria |  |
[Stifle the throbbing of this haunting pain]
Stifle
the throbbing of this haunting pain,
And dash this tearful sorrow from the eyes!
She is not dead! Though summoned to the skies,
Still in our hearts she lives, and there will reign;
Still the dear memory will the power retain
To teach us where our foremost duty lies,
Truth, justice, honour, simple worth to prize,
And what our best have been to be again.
And dash this tearful sorrow from the eyes!
She is not dead! Though summoned to the skies,
Still in our hearts she lives, and there will reign;
Still the dear memory will the power retain
To teach us where our foremost duty lies,
Truth, justice, honour, simple worth to prize,
And what our best have been to be again.
She hath gone hence, to meet the great, the good,
The loved ones, yearn'd for through long toilsome years,
To share with them the pure beatitude,
Where care is not, nor strife, nor wasting fears,
Nor cureless ills, nor wrongs to be withstood;
Shall thought of this not dry our blinding tears?
The loved ones, yearn'd for through long toilsome years,
To share with them the pure beatitude,
Where care is not, nor strife, nor wasting fears,
Nor cureless ills, nor wrongs to be withstood;
Shall thought of this not dry our blinding tears?
| Introductory Poem to Queen Victoria | |