Take, Madam, this poor book of song;
For tho' the faults were thick as dust
In vacant chambers, I could trust
Your kindness. [4] May you rule us long.

And leave us rulers of your blood
As noble till the latest day!
May children of our children say,
"She wrought her people lasting good; [5]

"Her court was pure; her life serene;
God gave her peace; her land reposed;
A thousand claims to reverence closed
In her as Mother, Wife and Queen;

"And statesmen at her council met
Who knew the seasons, when to take
Occasion by the hand, and make
The bounds of freedom wider yet [6]

"By shaping some august decree,
Which kept her throne unshaken still,
Broad-based upon her people's will, [7]
And compass'd by the inviolate sea."

MARCH, 1851.


[Footnote 1: 1851. Revered Victoria, you that hold.]