King and Queens may come and may go,
Folk may grow fickle and nations old,
Last who rode in the royal show
Was she whose fame shall not grow cold,
For honesty, honour and truth don't die
As we that have known her, known her, known her,
We that have have known can testify.
This song and the movement with it enacted, the Nineteenth Century followed by her menie, passes onto the inner scene; to wit:
All these then order themselves about the throne, whereupon the Nineteenth Century, now on the front stage and before the veil, beckons, and there shall enter behind the veil & led by the Twentieth Century, the figure of King Edward VII. robed for the crowning. He ascends the steps of the throne. The Twentieth Century then beckons before the throne and there enter the men of her meinie, to wit, youths from Canada, Australia, South Africa, New Zealand, and among them shall be an Irish Guardsman. They bear the symbols of kingship: the crown, the spurs, the orb, the sceptre, and the swords of mercy and justice, The Child Century receives these at their hands, standing raised high up behind the throne; whereupon there shall be enacted that portion of the coronation ceremony which symbolises the choice of the people and so links it with the past; till at the crowning the whole company being now gathered together, shall shout aloud:
GOD SAVE THE KING!
whereupon the Ten Centuries shall move into the centre of the outer stage. All being habited again in their long flowing robes as at the beginning, they shall place the Child Century, who however shall not be so habited, in their midst, making a half circle about him. The Eleventh Century shall then take the golden wand and pass it to the Twelfth, the Twelfth to the Thirteenth, Thirteenth to the Fourteenth, and so following till it reach the Child Century, when there shall be said or sung either by the Child Century or by some voice or voices speaking for or to him the verse here following:
TO THE CENTURY PROPHETIC.
Masquers we be, but a mumming we prophesy,
We watch and wait for thee, seer that art to be,
Poet that art to be, we wait for thee.
Thou that shalt synthesize, summing the century,
As through the lips of one sacred, inspiringly,
As did the Puritan, as did the Florentine,
Or as did he our own Elizabethan.
We look and long for thee singer that art to be,
Seer that art to be; we look for thee.
Strong in thy love and divine understanding,
Strong in thy sympathy, binding, uniting us,
Strong in the storm of thy verses inspiring us,
Strong in the great song of praise thou shalt sing to us!
Poet that art he, our souls look forth to thee,
We strive and seek for thee, poet for thee!
Thine be the mission, the passion, the sentiment,
Industry purified, life again unified,
Poverty passed away, science made purposeful,
Art the fulfilment of life again eloquent.
Thine to foresee, poet, poet that art to be,
Thine shall they be seer, thine shall they be!
Rede for the painter, the sculptor, the architect,
And every labourer, and every handicraft,
Singing the symbols concealed in material,
Singing creation and endless accomplishment.
Thine the strong music of militant comradeship
Firm lipped & swift, comprehending America;
Hoping, confirming, revealing Democracy,
Thine solidarity, thou cosmopolitan,
Even as Whitman conceived and aspired to thee,
We wait and watch for thee, poet to be.
We who are fragments of systems unsatisfied,
Echoes of prophecies, world-hopes that might have been,
Visions seen fruitlessly, dreams all unrealised,
Broken, divided, unnerved, and fragmentary,
We wait in awe for thee, poet that art to be,
Poet that art to be, meekly for thee.
Show us as parts of the One indivisible,
Bind us, unite us, inspire us, remodel us,
Make us what dreams would have made us, Utopian,
Once again unified, once again Catholic.
Champion that art to be: we strive and search for thee,
We call for thee, poet, we wait for thee!
Baptists to Christ are we, tentative, tentative,
Thine through the echoes the strong voice of leadership,
Thine the concluding voice, sombre, majestical,
Thine the young voice, fair and fresh to futurity.
Thou that shalt synthesize, summing the century,
Shape the new age, the creation that is to be,
Our birth cries come to thee, poet that art to be!
Masquers we be, but a mumming we prophesy,
Prophesy haltingly, dimly and falteringly,
Our birth cries come to thee, poet that art to be,
Poet that art to be, we wait, we watch for thee,
Dying we live, poet, we wait for thee.
Then shall the Child Century wave his wand when all shall sing the National Anthem, at which the inner curtain shall fall, and during the first verse of the anthem the characters of the Masque headed by the Child Century, shall pass in procession from the stage through the hall, all joining except the two last figures, that is to say the figures of Queen Victoria & King Edward VII., who together with the meinies of the Nineteenth and Twentieth Centuries shall remain behind the veil.
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