So, alien princes, native peers, and high-born ladies

bright, Along whose brows the Queen's, new crowned,

flashed coronets to light. And so, the people at the gates, with priestly hands

on high, Which bring the first anointing to all legal majesty. And so the Dead—who lie in rows beneath the

minster floor, There, verily an awful state maintaining evermore; The statesman whose clean palm will kiss no bribe

whate'er it be. The courtier who, for no fair queen, will rise up to

his knee. The court-dame who, for no court-tire, will leavo

her shroud behind. The laureate who no courtlier rhyme than “dust to

dust can find. The kings and queens who having made that vow

and worn that crown, Descended urto lower thrones and darker, deep

adown! Dieu et mon droit—what is't to them?—what mean

ing can it have ?The King of kings, the right of death—God's judg

ment and the grave. And when betwixt the quick and dead, the young

fair queen had vowed, The living shouted ‘May she live! Victoria, live!'

aloud. And as the loyal shouts went up, true spirits prayed

between, “The blessings happy monarchs have, be thine, O

crownëd queen !

111. But now before her people's face she bendeth hers

anew, And calls them, while she vows, to be her witness

thereunto. She vowed to rule, and, in that oath, her childhood

put away. She doth maintain her womanhood, in vowing love

to-day. 0, lovely lady !-let her vow!-such lips become

such vows, And fairer goeth bridal wreath than crown with

vernal brows. O, lovely lady !-let her vow! yea, let her vow to

love! And though she be no less a queen—with purples

hung above, The pageant of a court behind, the royal kin around, And woven gold to catch her looks turned maidenly

to ground, Yet may the bride-veil hide from her a little of that

state, While loving hopes, for retinues, about her sweetness

wait. She vows to love who vowed to rule—(the chosen at

her side) Let none say, God preserve the queen!—but rather,

Bless the bride! None blow the trump, none bend the knee, none

violate the dream Wherein no monarch but a wife, she to herself may

seem. Or if ye say, Preserve the queen!—oh, breathe it

inward low

She is a woman, and beloved !—and 'tis enough but

so. Count it enough, thou noble prince, who tak’st her

by the hand, And claimest for thy lady-love, our lady of the land! And since, Prince Albert, men have called thy spirit

high and rare, And true to truth and brave for truth, as some at

Augsburg were,We charge thee by thy lofty thoughts, and by thy

poet-mind Which not by glory and degree takes measure of

mankind, Esteem that wedded hand less dear for sceptre than

for ring, And hold her uncrowned womanhood to be the

royal thing.

IV.

. And now, upon our queen's last vow, what blessings

· shall we pray ? None, straitened to a shallow crown, will suit our

lips to-day. Behold, they must be free as love—they must be

broad as free, Even to the borders of heaven's light and earth's

humanity. Long live she !—send up loyal shouts—and true

hearts pray between,“The blessings happy PEASANTS have, be thine, O

crownéd queen!'

CROWNED AND BURIED.

NAPOLEON !-years ago, and that great word
Compact of human breath in hate and dread
And exultation, skied us overhead-
An atmosphere whose lightning was the sword
Scathing the cedars of the world,-drawn down
In burnings, by the metal of a crown.

II.

Napoleon! nations, while they cursed that name,
Shook at their own curse ; and while others bore
Its sound, as of a trumpet, on before,
Brass-fronted legions justified its fame;
And dying men, on trampled battle-sods,
Near their last silence, uttered it for God's.

JII. Napoleon! sages, with high foreheads drooped, Did use it for a problem: children small Leapt up to greet it, as at manhood's call: Priests blessed it from their altars overstooped By meek-eyed Christs,—and widows with a moan Spake it, when questioned why they sate alone.

iv.
That name consumed the silence of the snows
In Alpine keeping, holy and cloud-hid.
The mimic eagles dared what Nature's did,
And over-rushed her mountainous repose

In search of eyries; and the Egyptian river • Mingled the same word with its grand ·For ever.'

V.

That name was shouted near the pyramídal
Nilotic tombs, whose mummied habitants,
Packed to humanity's significance,
Motioned it back with stillness ! shouts as idle
As hireling artists' work of myrrh and spice
Which swathed last glories round the Ptolemies.

VI.

The world's face changed to hear it. Kingly men
Came down in chidden babes' bewilderment
From autocratic places, each content
With sprinkled ashes for anointing. —Then
The people laughed, or wondered for the nonce,
To see one throne a composite of thrones.

VII.

Napoleon ! even the torrid vastitude
Of India felt in throbbings of the air
That name which scattered by disastrous blare
All Europe's bound-lines,— drawn afresh in blood.
Napoleon—from the Russias, west to Spain !
And Austria trembled—till he heard her chain.

VIII.
And Germany was 'ware; and Italy
Oblivious of old fames—her laurel-locked,
High-ghosted Cæsars passing uninvoked-
Did crumble her own ruins with her knee,
To serve a newer.- Ay! but Frenchmen cast
A future from them nobler than her past.