30 JUNE 1888, Page 14

FR,EDERICK m.

KING for a hundred days, a hundred years

Shall not undo the greatness of thy reign, Lord of a realm no sovereign might of pain Could crush, nor death with its ten thousand fears Shock ; for thy brow that heaven's new glory wears.

Was helmed with honour and the high disdain For all things mean, and by thy life was plain Love rules in right when love itself forswears.

Yet, gentle heart, though hands did never crown With gold of earth thy weary suffering head, At least one prince was in thy presence less.

One tyrant found his mastery overthrown—

Death's darkness was as purple round thee shed, King by full hope, in utter hopelessness.

H. D. R..