Opening Of The Indian And Colonial Exhibition By The Queen

WRITTEN AT THE REQUEST OF THE
PRINCE OF WALES

I.

Welcome, welcome with one voice!
In your welfare we rejoice,
Sons and brothers that have sent,
From isle and cape and continent,
Produce of your field and flood,
Mount and mine, and primal wood;
Works of subtle brain and hand,
And splendors of the morning land,
Gifts from every British zone;
Britons, hold your own!


II.

May we find, as ages run,
The mother featured in the son:
And may yours for ever be
That old strength and constancy
Which has made your fathers great
In our ancient island State,
And wherever her flag fly,
Glorying between sea and sky,
Makes the might of Britain known;
Britons, hold your own!


III.

Britain fought her sons of yore
Britain faild; and never more,
Careless of our growing kin,
Shall we sin our fathers sin,
Men that in a narrower day
Unprophetic rulers they
Drove from out the mothers nest
That young eagle of the West
To forage for herself alone;
Britons, hold your own!


IV.

Sharers of our glorious past,
Brothers, must we part at last?
Shall we not thro good and ill
Cleave to one another still?
Britains myriad voices call,
Sons, be welded each and all
Into one imperial whole,
One with Britain, heart and soul!
One life, one flag, one fleet, one throne!
Britons, hold your own!

Alfred Lord Tennyson

Alfred Lord Tennyson was a renowned British poet of the Victorian era, born on August 6, 1809, in Somersby, Lincolnshire. He is best known for his works like 'In Memoriam A.H.H.', 'The Charge of the Light Brigade', and 'Ulysses'. As one of the most popular poets of his time, he was appointed Poet Laureate of Great Britain and Ireland in 1850. Tennyson's poetry is characterized by its rich imagery, deep emotion, and classical themes. He passed away on October 6, 1892.

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English

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O loyal to the royal in thyself,
And loyal to thy land, as this to thee--
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When, pale as yet, and fever-worn, the Prince
Who scarce had plucked his flickering life again
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Past with thee through thy people and their love,
And London rolled one tide of joy through all
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And welcome! witness, too, the silent cry,
The prayer of many a race and creed, and clime--
Thunderless lightnings striking under sea
From sunset and sunrise of all thy realm,
And that true North, whereof we lately heard
A strain to shame us 'keep you to yourselves;
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The Defence Of Lucknow

I
Banner of England, not for a season, O banner of Britain, hast thou
Floated in conquering battle or flapt to the battle-cry!
Never with mightier glory than when we had reard thee on high
Flying at top of the roofs in the ghastly siege of Lucknow
Shot thro the staff or the halyard, but ever we raised thee anew,
And ever upon the topmost roof our banner of England blew.

II.
Frail were the works that defended the hold that we held with our lives
Women and children among us, God help them, our children and wives!
Hold it we mightand for fifteen days or for twenty at most.
Never surrender, I charge you, but every man die at his post!
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A Royal Welcome.

By England's side we stand,
We grasp her royal hand,
And pay her rightful homage through her Son;
Thank God for England's care!
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A loyal Province pours
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To The Marquis Of Dufferin And Ava

I.

At times our Britain cannot rest,
At times her steps are swift and rash;
She moving, at her girdle clash
The golden keys of East and West.


II.

Not swift or rash, when late she lent
The sceptres of her West, her East,
To one, that ruling has increased
Her greatness and her self-content.


III.

Your rule has made the people love
Their ruler. Your viceregal days
Have added fulness to the phrase
Of Gauntlet in the velvet glove.


IV.

But since your name will grow with Time,
Not all, as honouring your fair fame
Of Statesman, have I made the name
A golden portal to my rhyme:


V.

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On The Jubilee Of Queen Victoria

I.

Fifty times the rose has flowerd and faded,
Fifty times the golden harvest fallen,
Since our Queen assumed the globe, the sceptre.



II.

She beloved for a kindliness
Rare in fable or history,
Queen, and Empress of India,
Crownd so long with a diadem
Never worn by a worthier,
Now with prosperous auguries
Comes at last to the bounteous
Crowning year of her Jubilee.


III.

Nothing of the lawless, of the despot,
Nothing of the vulgar, or vainglorious,
All is gracious, gentle, great and queenly.



IV.

You then joyfully, all of you,
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England And America In 1782

O thou that sendest out the man
To rule by land and sea,
Strong mother of a Lion-line,
Be proud of those strong sons of thine
Who wrenchd their rights from thee!

What wonder if in noble heat
Those men thine arms withstood,
Retaught the lesson thou hadst taught,
And in thy spirit with thee fought
Who sprang from English blood!

But thou rejoice with liberal joy,
Lift up thy rocky face,
And shatter, when the storms are black,
In many a streaming torrent back,
The seas that shock thy base!

Whatever harmonies of law
The growing world assume,
Thy work is thinethe single note
From that deep chord which Hampden smote
Will vibrate to the doom.

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