Poetry Explorer- Classic Contemporary Poetry, ON A SILVER WEDDING; MARCH 10, 1888, by LEWIS MORRIS (1833-1907)


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Classic and Contemporary Poetry

ON A SILVER WEDDING; MARCH 10, 1888, by                     Poet's Biography
First Line: The rapid tide of gliding years
Last Line: A throne, a people great!
Subject(s): Victoria, Queen Of England (1819-1901)


THE rapid tide of gliding years
Flows gently by this Royal home,
Unvexed by clouds of grief and tears
Its tranquil seasons come.

To one, as happy and more great,
Came earlier far, the dread alarm,
The swift immedicable harm,
The icy voice of Fate.

The gracious father of his race
Heard it, too soon, and dared the night;
Death coming found him with the light
Of Sunshine on his face.

He left his widowed Queen to move
Alone in solitary sway,
Alone, through her long after-day,
But for her people's love.

Their saintly daughter, sweet and mild,
Drew poison from her darling's breath;
Their young son trod the paths of death
Far, far from love and child.

Nay, now by the Ausonian sea,
Daughter of England, good and wise!
Thou watchest, with sad anxious eyes,
Thy flower of chivalry!

But this fair English home no shade
Of deeper sorrow comes to blot,
No grief for dear ones who are not,
Nor voids which years have made.

One sickness only, when its head
Lay long weeks, wrestling sore with death,
And pitying England held her breath
Despairing, round his bed

No regal house of crowned state,
Nor lonely as the homes of kings
Where the slow hours on leaden wings
Oppress the friendless great.

But lit with dance and song and mirth,
And graceful Art, and thought to raise,
Crushed down by long laborious days,
The toiler from the earth.

Its Lord an English noble, strong
For public cares, for homely joys,
A Prince among the courtly throng,
A brother with his boys.

Who his Sire's footsteps loves to tread,
In prudent schemes for popular good;
And strives to raise the multitude,
Remembering the dead.

And having seen how far and wide
Flies England's flag, by land and sea,
Would bind in willing unity
Her strong sons side by side.

Its gentle mistress, fair and sweet,
A girlish mother, clothed with grace,
With only summer on her face,
Howe'er the swift years fleet.

Who was the Vision of our youth,
Who is the Exemplar of our prime,
Sweet Lady, breathing Love and Truth,
With charms which vanquish Time.

Good sons in flowering manhood free,
Girls fair in budding womanhood,
An English household bright and good,
A thousand such there be!

Great Heaven, how brief our Summers show!
And fleeting as the flying Spring!
The almonds blush, the throstles sing,
The vernal wind-flowers blow.

And yet 'tis five-and-twenty years,
Since those March violets dewy-sweet,
Were strewn before the maiden's feet,
Amidst a people's cheers.

And mile on mile the acclaiming crowd
Surged round her, as the soft Spring air
With joy-bells reeled, and everywhere
Roared welcome deep and loud.

While this, our trivial life to-day,
Loomed a dim perilous landscape strange,
Hid by thick mists of Time and Change,
Unnumbered leagues away.

Long years! long years! and yet how nigh
The dead Past shows, and still how far
The Future's hidden glimpses are
From mortal brain and eye.

What secrets here shall Time unfold?
What fates befall this gracious home?
Shall to-day's festal once more come,
Ripened with time to gold?

Heaven send it! Close-knit hearts are here,
Not that old hate of sire and heir;
Here flourish homely virtues fair,
And love that conquers fear.

For these may Fortune grant again
Their Sovereign's large and blameless life,
Unmarred by care, undimmed by strife,
Less touched than Hers by pain!

High set above the noise and dust
Of Faction, and contented still
To guide aright the popular will,
By sympathy and trust!

Through civic wisdom temperate,
And forethought for the general need,
Keeping midst change of politic creed,
A Throne, a People great!





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