SANDRINGHAM

In the drear November gloom

And the long December night,

There were omens of affright,

And prophecies of doom;

And the golden lamp of life burn'd spectre-dim,

Till Love could hardly mark

The little sapphire spark

That only made the dark

More dark and grim.

There not around alone

Watch'd sister, brother, wife,

And she who gave him life,

White as if wrought in stone

Unheard, invisible, by the bed of death

Stood eager millions by;

And as the hour drew nigh,

Dreading to see him die,

Held their breath.

Where'er in world-wide skies

The Lion-Banner burns,

A common impulse turns

All hearts to where he lies:—

For as a babe the heir of that great throne

Is weak and motionless;

And they feel the deep distress

On wife and mother press,

As‘ twere their own.

O! not the thought of race

From Asian Odin drawn

In History's mythic dawn,

Nor what we downward trace,

— Plantagenet, York, Edward, Elizabeth,—

Heroic names approved,—

The blood of the people moved;

But that,‘ mongst those he loved,

He fought with death.

And if the Reason said

‘'Gainst Nature's law and death

Prayer is but idle breath,’ —

Yet Faith was undismayed,

Arm'd with the deeper insight of the heart:—

Nor can the wisest say

What other laws may sway

The world's apparent way,

Known but in part.

Nor knew we on that life

What burdens may be cast;

What issues wide and vast

Dependent on that strife:—

This only:—‘ Twas the son of those we loved!

That in his Mother's hand

Peace set her golden wand;

‘ Mid heaving realms, one land

Law-ruled, unmoved.

— He fought, and we with him!

And other Powers were by,

Courage, and Science high,

Grappling the spectre grim

On the battle-field of quiet Sandringham:

And force of perfect Love,

And the will of One above,

Chased Death's dark squadrons off,

And overcame.

— O soul, to life restored

And love, and wider aim

Than private care can claim,

— And from Death's unsheath'd sword!

By suffering and by safety dearer made:—

O may the life new-found

Through life be wisdom-crown'd,—

Till in the common ground

Thou too art laid!