Two centuries of song : or, Lyrics, madrigals, sonnets, and other occasional verses of the English poets of the last two hundred years . - And when the god to whom we pay In jest our homages to-day Shall come to claim, no more in jest, His rightful empire oer thy breast, Benignant may his aspect be. His yoke the truest liberty : And if a tear his power confess, Be it a tear of happiness. It shall be so. The Muse displays The future to her votarys gaze ; Prophetic rage my bosom swells — I taste the cake—I hear the bells ! From Conduit Street the close array Of chariots barricades the way T
Two centuries of song : or, Lyrics, madrigals, sonnets, and other occasional verses of the English poets of the last two hundred years . - And when the god to whom we pay In jest our homages to-day Shall come to claim, no more in jest, His rightful empire oer thy breast, Benignant may his aspect be. His yoke the truest liberty : And if a tear his power confess, Be it a tear of happiness. It shall be so. The Muse displays The future to her votarys gaze ; Prophetic rage my bosom swells — I taste the cake—I hear the bells ! From Conduit Street the close array Of chariots barricades the way To where I see, with outstretched hand, Majestic, thy great kinsman stand,* And half unbend his brow of pride, As welcoming so fair a bride. Gay favours, thick as flakes of snow, Brighten S. Georges portico : Within I see the chancels pale, . The orange flowers, the Brussels veil, The page on which those fingers white. Still trembling from the awful rite. For the last time shall faintly trace The name of Stanhopes noble race. I see kind faces round thee pressing, I hear kind voices whisper blessing ; And with those voices mingles mine
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Keywords: ., bookcentury1800, bookdecade1860, bookpu, booksubjectenglishpoetry
