 | Jubilate! |  |
TO THE QUEEN.
Monarch of millions, yet a gentle maid,O, fair and young,—yet dignified and sage,
Most glorious Queen, yet in thy glory staid,
Bright star of promise for our golden age,
All hail, the Lord's anointed! Thou art lent
In mercy, like our other blessings all;
A messenger of peace, divinely sent,
That only good may rise, and evil fall;
Heal, then, a realm by jarring factions rent;
Take these contentious brothers by the hand,
Smile down their quarrels, and unite their strength;
'Till, only jealous for their mother-land,
Men of all systems, reconciled at length
To one just object, take their patriot stand
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The archetypes of Heaven,—the Altar and the Throne!
| Jubilate! | |