All other from his face;
And thou upon thy mother's breast
No longer lean adown,
But take the glory for the rest,
And rule the land that loves thee best.
The maiden wept,
She wept to wear a crown.

* * * * *

God bless thee, weeping Queen,
With blessings more divine,
And fill with better love than earth
That tender heart of thine;
That when the thrones of earth shall be
As low as graves brought down,
A pierced hand may give to thee
The crown which angels shout to see.
Thou wilt not weep
To wear that heavenly crown.

A maiden Queen in her first youth, wearing the crown and wielding the
sceptre, had become _un fait accompli_ and the news spread over the
length and breadth of the land. We have seen how it touched the oldest
statesmen, to whom State ceremonials had become hackneyed--who were perhaps
a little sceptical of virtue in high places. It may be imagined, then, how
the knowledge, with each striking and picturesque detail, thrilled and
engrossed all the sensitive, romantic young hearts in the Queen's
dominions. It seemed as if womanhood and girlhood were exalted in one woman
and girl's person--as if a new era must be inaugurated with such a reign,