POETRY.
WAITING.
01331 streets were decked to greet our King ; We spread his path with flags and flowers ; A thousand bells were tuned to ring A welcome from their rocking towers.
To-day throughout our grieving land Silent an anxious people wait, And oft their eager eyes have scanned The message on his Palace gate.
And where is she who should have knelt Beside him in you minster's shade, And on her gracious temples felt The crown by priestly fingers laid P Though bright with many a burning gem, For her 'twere but an empty show : With Love's diviner diadem Her subjects crowned her long ago.
0 Lily Lady pale and fair, The dearest of tby Royal line ! Whatever pang our King may bear, The keener agony is thine.
O Queen by worldly pride unstained, Unspoiled by all the pomp of power! The hearts thy gentle life hath gained Are with thee in this bitter hour.
EDWARD SYDNEY TYLEE.
Previous page
