Page:Landon in Fisher's Drawing Room Scrap Book 1838.pdf/3



the page, oh, Royal Ladye!—seeking To win but one approving look of thine— Are pictured shores where foreign waves are breaking; And distant hills, where far-off planets shine: And yet above them is thy rule extending— The Himalaya mountains own thy sway: The British flag is with the palm-trees blending, By the Red Sea, where now we seek our way.

And mixed with these are English scenes and faces, Our lovely rivers and our summer vales, Haunted by names whose memory retraces How moral conquest over time prevails. Beside thee grows the laurel, from whose branches Are gathered many wreaths to honour thee: Victory, that o’er the deep its thunder launches— The sage’s meed—the crown of poesie.

Our volume is a gallery, enshrining The past and present of our native land. Vast is the empire Providence assigning Trusts to thy youthful and thy woman’s hand. Our English history has no hours more glorious Than when a woman filled the island throne; Elizabeth and Anne bequeathed victorious Illustrious names, high omens of thine own.

The warrior, sage, and poet fill their story With all the various honours of mankind;— May thy young reign achieve yet truer glory, The pure, enlightened triumphs of the mind! Too much in this wide world yet needs redressing; But with thy reign Hope’s loveliest promise came. May thy sweet youth be sheltered by the blessing A nation breathes upon name!