She'll greet us with her soft, "Come ben!"




THE PASSING OF THE QUEEN


_Hark! The drums! Muffled drums!
The long low ruffle of the drums_!--
And every head is bowed,
In the vast expectant crowd,
As the Great Queen comes,--
By the way she knew so well,
Where our cheers were wont to swell,
As we tried in vain to tell
Of our love unspeakable.
Now she comes
To the rolling of the drums,
And the slow sad tolling of the bell.
Let every head be bowed,
In the silent waiting crowd,
As the Great Queen comes,
To the slow sad ruffle of the drums!

_Who is this that comes,
To the rolling of the drums,
In the sorrowful great silence of the peoples_?
Take heart of grace,
She is not here!