Page:Poems and ballads, third series (IA poemsballadsthir00swin).pdf/23

 And now that fifty years are flown Since in a maiden's hand the sign Of empire that no seas confine First as a star to seaward shone, We see their record shine.

A troubled record, foul and fair, A simple record and serene, Inscribes for praise a blameless queen, For praise and blame an age of care And change and ends unseen.

Hope, wide of eye and wild of wing, Rose with the sundawn of a reign Whose grace should make the rough ways plain, And fill the worn old world with spring, And heal its heart of pain.