Page:Pleasant Memories.pdf/298

The Lady of the kingdoms. With clear eye
And queenly grace, gentle and self-possest,
She met the fixed gaze of the earnest throng,
Scanning her close. And I remembered well
How it was said that tears o'erflowed her cheek,
When summoned first for cares of state to yield
Her girlhood's joys.
                           In her fair hands she held
A scroll, and with a clear and silver tone
Of wondrous melody, descanted free
Of foreign climes, where Albion's ships had borne
Their thunders, and of those who dwelt at peace
In prosperous commerce, and of some who frowned
In latent anger murmuring notes of war,
Until the British Lion cleared his brow
To meditate 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,
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 embedded in her soul,
Which yet she uttered not. Fruitful in change,