Round affrighted Lisbon drew And barking for the thrones of kings; crown On that loud sabbath shook the spoiler down; A day of onsets of despair! Their surging charges foam'd themselves away; Last, the Prussian trumpet blew; So great a soldier taught us there, And thro' the centuries let a people's voice Who never sold the truth to serve the hour, Nor palter'd with Eternal God for power; Who let the turb'd streams of rumour flow Thro' either babbling world of high and low; Whose life was work, whose language rife With rugged maxims hewn from life; All great self-seekers trampling on the right: Truth-teller was our England's Alfred named; Truth-lover was our English Duke; VIII. Lo, the leader in these glorious wars horn. Yea, let all good things await Not once or twice in our rough islandstory, The path of duty was the way to glory: He shall find the stubborn thistle bursting Into glossy purples, which outredden Thro' the long gorge to the far light has won His path upward, and prevail'd, Shall find the toppling crags of Duty scaled Are close upon the shining table-lands To which our God Himself is moon and sun. Such was he: his work is done. And keep the soldier firm, the statesman pure: Till in all lands and thro' all human story For many and many an age proclaim Their ever-loyal iron leader's fame, Eternal honour to his name. IX. Peace, his triumph will be sung For one about whose patriarchal knee For one, upon whose hand and heart and brain Once the weight and fate of Europe hung. Uplifted high in heart and hope are we, For tho' the Giant Ages heave the hill Where Science, Art, and Labour have outpour'd Their myriad horns of plenty at our feet. II. O silent father of our Kings to be Mourn'd in this golden hour of jubilee, For this, for all, we weep our thanks to thee! III. The world-compelling plan was thine, — Of Palace; lo! the giant aisles, Steel and gold, and corn and wine, Of wonder, out of West and East, That one fair planet can produce, Brought from under every star, Blown from over every main, And mixt, as life is mixt with pain, The works of peace with works of war. IV. Is the goal so far away? Far, how far no tongue can say, Let us dream our dream to-day. V. O ye, the wise who think, the wise who reign, From growing commerce loose her latest chain, And let the fair white-wing'd peacemaker fly To happy havens under all the sky, And mix the seasons and the golden hours; Till each man find his own in all men's good, And all men work in noble brotherhood, Breaking their mailed fleets and armed towers, And ruling by obeying Nature's powers, And gathering all the fruits of earth and crown'd with all her flowers. Lough A WELCOME TO ALEXANDRA. of exmarts MARCH 7, 1863. w SEA-KINGS' daughter from over the sea, Alexandra! Saxon and Norman and Dane are we, But all of us Danes in our welcome of thee, Alexandra! Welcome her, thunders of fort and of fleet! Welcome her, thundering cheer of the street! Welcome her, all things youthful and sweet, Scatter the blossom under her feet! Break, happy land, into earlier flowers! Make music, O bird, in the new-budded bowers! Blazon your mottoes of blessing and prayer! Welcome her, welcome her, all that is |