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 298 VICTORIA.

Until the British Lion cleared his brow To mediate between them, with a branch Of olive in his paw.

T was strange to me

To hear so young a creature speak so well And eloquent, of nations and their rights, Their equal balance and their policies, &quot;Which we, in our republic, think that none Can comprehend but grave and bearded men. Her words went wandering wide o er all the earth, For so her sphere required. But there was still Something she said not, though the closest twined With her heart s inmost core. Yes, there was one, One little word imbedded in her soul, Which yet she uttered not. Fruitful in change, Had been the fleeting year. When last she stood In tfris august assembly to convoke The power of parliament, the crown adorned A maiden brow ; but now that vow had passed, Which Death alone can break, and a new soul Come forth to witness it. And by the seed Of those most strong affections, dropped by Heaven In a rich soil, I knew there was a germ That fain would have disclosed itself in sound If unsupprest. Through her transparent brow I could discern that word close wrapped in love, And dearer than all earthly pageantry. Thy babe, young Mother ! thy fair first-born babe ! That was the word.

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