The Passing of Victoria: The Poets' TributeSir John Alexander Hammerton |
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A. C. BENSON ALFRED COCHRANE ALFRED PERCEVAL GRAVES BARRY PAIN bells beloved bless blest bowed brave breath Britain's brow CHARLES CAMP TARELLI Cool-kellure crown Daily Express dark dead dear death deeds dream earth editor ELLA WHEELER WILCOX Empire Empire's Empress England eyes faithful Farewell flag FLORA ANNIE STEEL Gazette Glasgow glorious glory grace grief half-mast hand HAROLD hath heart Heaven honoured hush JOHN ADCOCK journals King knew land LEWIS MORRIS light Lord memory mighty Mother mourn nae mair nations never o'er Oor Queen passed Peace poem first appeared poet pomp praise pure Queen comes Queen is dead realm reign rest royal sceptre shining silent sleep song sorrow soul splendour star sweet tears tender thee thine thou hast throne thy people's to-day toil TREVOR FRANCIS unto verse Victoria Victoria's deid VIOLET FANE voice W. E. HENLEY weep wept wife womanhood
Popular passages
Page 107 - ... Here then are the first two stanzas from a piece which Miss Wilcox wrote on the occasion of Queen Victoria's funeral: THE QUEEN'S LAST RIDE The Queen is taking a drive to-day They have hung with purple the carriage-way They have dressed with purple the royal track Where the Queen goes forth and never comes back. Let no man labour as she goes by On her last appearance to mortal eye; With heads uncovered let all men wait For the Queen to pass, in her regal state. In Mr. Betjeman's poems we have...
Page 107 - They have hung with purple the carriage way ; They have dressed with purple the royal track Where the Queen goes forth and never comes back. Let no man labor as she goes by, On her last appearance to mortal eye. With heads uncovered let all men wait For the Queen to pass in her regal state. Army and navy shall lead the way For that wonderful coach of the Queen's to-day. Kings and princes and lords of the land Shall ride behind her, a humble band. And over the city and over the world Shall flags of...
Page 157 - News in a dreadful poem entitled 'Farewell': Who loves the land, the dear old land that bore us Who holds her honour as no party scheme Who fain would front whatever lies before us, From foes who plot or fools who only dream Who loves this country - for the past a debtor, And doubtful for the future, dark, unknown Will join the chorus - where could we do better? 'Long may Victoria's memory guide the Throne!
Page 108 - Though in royal splendour she drives through town, Her robes are simple, she wears no crown: And yet she wears one, for, widowed no more, She is crowned with the love that has gone before, And crowned with the love she has left behind In the hidden depths of each mourner's mind. Bow low your heads — lift your hearts on high — The Queen in silence is driving by!
Page 110 - Be thou faithful unto death, and I will give to thee a crown of life
Page 19 - We dare not think of glory now ; We will not think of pomp and pride ; Tho' listening nations veil their brow, And sorrow at Victoria's side. ' The silent Orient wondering hears The tale of all thy gracious years.
Page 67 - Not pitiable thou, but blest, Such weight of anxious cares thou layest down With thy sad earthly crown ; A woman vowed to duty, lonely, tried, Unhelped, with no protecting arm to guide, Thro' many a civil broil, and storm of war Thou showest a single star Shining serene above the gathering strife, The clouds, the troubles of thy people's life ; For thee to-day thy countless millions yearn With hearts and lips that burn.
Page 66 - THE days, the years, the centuries decay, Decease, and pass away ; And we, whose brief lives fleeting seem No longer than a dream, Fade and decease as they. Virtue, nor piety, nor regal State, Nor all a nation's prayers can delay The pitiless march of Fate. We have our destined term, both small and great ; We fade, and pass away.
Page 69 - With torture-pains Christ's innocent martyrs die. Thou who hast known so many a piercing pain, Love, children, children's children, wept in vain, Friend following friend, and thou still left alone Upon thy lonely throne ; Who mournedst last, thy people's life-blood shed, Their high, their lowly, manhood, maimed and dead. Think of us still, if God so wills, and plead ! As daily thou wert wont indeed, For this thy people which must toil and bleed.
Page 90 - BORNE by Thy angels, through the awful way, To Paradise, where dawns the eternal day, God rest our Queen ! Faith dares not doubt ; her prayer and ours is heard ; She claims the precious promise of Thy Word, God rest our Queen ! With those, her dearest, whom she mourned so long, She lives, and loves, and learns the...