ODE

As when the snowdrop from the snowy ground

Lifting a maiden face, foretells the flowers

That lurk and listen, till the chaffinch sound

Spring's advent with the glistening willow crown'd,

Sheathed in their silken bowers:—

E'en so the promise of her life appears

Through those white childhood-years;

— Whether in seaside happiness, and air

Rosing the fair cheek,— sand, and spade, and shell,—

Or race with sister-feet, that flash'd and fell

Printing the beach, while the gay comrade-wind

Play'd in the soft light hair:—

Or if with sunbeam-smile and kind

Small hand at cottage-door

Her simple alms she tender'd to the poor:

Love's healthy happy heart in all her steps was seen,

And God, in life's fresh springtime, bless'd our Queen.

Lo! the quick months their order'd dance pursue,

And Spring's bright apple-blossoms flush to fruit;

The bay-tree thrives‘ neath Heaven's own gracious dew,

And her young shoots the parent-life renew

Around the fostering root.

— The Girl from care in youth's sweet sleep withdrawn

Wakes to a crown at dawn!

But Love is at her side, strong, faithful, wise,

To share the world-wide burden of command,

The sceptre's weight in the unlesson'd hand;

To aid each nursery inmate,— each in turn

Dear pride of watchful eyes,—

To clasp the innocent hands, and learn

The words of love and grace,

Lifting their souls to the compassionate Face:—

While o'er the fortunate fold the Shepherd watch'd unseen;

And home, in all its beauty, bless'd a Queen.

Ah! Happy she, who wedded finds in one

Wisest and dearest! happy, happy years!

But summer whirlwinds wait on summer's sun;

Where the Five Rivers from Himala run,

His snow where Everest rears,

Or Alma's echoing crags with war-cry wake

The wind-vext Euxine lake.

— O Death in myriad forms! O brutal roar

Of battle! throes of race, and crash of thrones!

Imploring hands, and wreck of whitening bones

In Khyber pass;— Or woman's stifled cry,

And that dark pit of gore!

— Yet night had light; for He was by,

Her heart, her strength, her shield,

Twin-star in the Throne's radiance self-conceal'd;

Love's hand laid light on hers, guiding the ship unseen —

For God's best grace in Albert bless'd the Queen.

But at man's side each hour with ambush'd sword

Death hurries, nor for prayer nor love delays;

In God's own time His harvest-sheaves are stored,

‘ For My thoughts are not your thoughts,’ saith the Lord,

‘ Nor are your ways My ways.’

He Who spared not the Son His bitter cup,

The broken heart binds up

In His fit hour, All-Merciful!— And she,

The desolate faithful Mother, in the nest

By children's love soft-woven, has found rest;

Some constant to her side, if some have flown

The Angels’ road, and see

The Vision of the Eternal Throne:—

With them,‘ tis well!— But thou,

Strong through submission, to His will dost bow,

Till God renew the home in that far realm unseen,

And bless with all her lost ones England's Queen.

Yet in great Nature's changeful mystic dance

Joy circles grief, gay dawn outsmiles the night:

‘ Tis meet our song should build its radiance

Like some high palace-porch, and walls that glance

With gold and marble light:

Now fifty suns‘ neath one firm patriot sway

Have whirl'd their shining way.

— Lo Commerce with the golden girdling chain

That links all nations for the good of each;

While Science boasts her silent lightning speech

Swifter than thought; and how her patience rein'd

To post o'er earth and main

The panting white-breath'd Titan, chain'd

Bondslave to man:— and won

The magic spark o'erdazzling star and sun

From its dark cave: for He, the all-seeing Lord unseen

Enlightening, bless'd the years of England's Queen.

Freedom of England! from thy sacred source

Where Alfred arm'd in Athelney, welling pure,

With hero-blood dyed in thy widening course,

— What loyaler hand than her's to guide thy force

Down ancient channels sure?

Honour of England! in what bosom stirs

Thy soul more quick than her's?

Yet in her days... O greater grief, than when

In years of woe, the years of happiness

Flash o'er us,— to behold,— and no redress,—

Some deed of shame we cannot cure nor stay!

Our best, our man of men,

Martyr'd inch-meal by dull delay!

Ah, sacred, hidden grave!

Ah gallant comrade feet, love-wing'd to save,

Too late, too late!— But Thou, Whose counsels work unseen,

Spare us henceforth such pangs, spare England's Queen

O much enduring, much revered! To thee

Bring sun-dyed millions love more sweet than fame,

And happy isles that star the purple sea

Homage;— and children at the mother's knee

With her's unite thy name;

And faithful hearts, that throb‘ neath palm and pine,

From East to West, are thine.

For as some pillar-star o'er sea and storm

Whole fleets to haven guides, so from that height

One great example points the path of Right,

And purifies the home; with gracious aid

Lifting the fallen form.

See Death by finer skill delay'd;

Kind hearts to wait on woe,

And feet of Love that in Christ's footsteps go;

Wild wastes of life reclaim'd by Woman's hand unseen:

All England bless'd with England's Empress Queen.

And now, as one who through some fruitful field

Has urged the fifty furrows of the grain,—

Look round with joy, and know thy care will yield

A thousandfold in its due day reveal'd,

The harvest laugh again:—

E'en now thy great crown'd ancestors on high

Watch with exultant eye

Thy hundred Englands o'er the broad earth sown,

And Arthur lives anew to hail his heir!

— O then for her and us we chant the prayer,—

Keep Thou this sea-girt citadel of the free

Safe‘ neath her ancient throne,

Love-link'd in loyal unity;

Let eve's calm after-glow

Arch all the heaven with Hope's wide roseate bow:

Till in Time's fulness Thou, Almighty Lord unseen,

With glory and life immortal crown the Queen.