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Rh To be, for one enchanted hour, In beauty, majesty, and power, What you for forty years have been, The Oberon of life’s fairy scene.

An anxious city sought and found you
 * In a blessed day of joy and pride,

Sceptred your jewelled hand, and crowned
 * Her chief, her guardian, and her guide.

Honors which weaker minds had wrought
 * In vain for years, and knelt and prayed for,

Are all your own, unpriced, unbought,
 * Or (which is the same thing) unpaid for.

Painfully great! against your will
 * Her hundred offices to hold,

Each chair with dignity to fill,
 * And your own pockets with her gold:

A sort of double duty, making Your task a serious undertaking. With what delight the eyes of all Gaze on you, seated in your Hall,
 * Like Sancho in his island, reigning,

Loved leader of its motley hosts Of lawyers and their bills of costs,
 * And all things thereto appertaining,

Such as crimes, constables, and juries, Male pilferers and female furies, The police and the polissons, Illegal right and legal wrong,