Today bells ring, bands play, flags are unfurled, Anxieties and feuds lie buried Under a ceremonial joy. You, sir, inherit A weight of history in a changing world, Its treasured wisdom and its true Aspirings the best birthday gift for you. Coming of age, you come into a land Of mountain, pasture, cwm, pithead, Steelworks. A proud and fiery people, thoroughbred For singing, eloquence, rugby football, stand Beneath Caernarvon's battlements To greet and take the measure of their prince. But can they measure his hard task—to be Both man and symbol? With the man's Selfhood the symbol grows in clearer light, or wanes. Your mother's grace, your father's gallantry Go with you now to nerve and cheer you Upon the crowded, lonely way before you. May your integrity silence each tongue That sneers or flatters. May this hour Reach through its pageantry to the deep reservoir Whence Britain's heart draws all that is fresh and young. Over the tuneful land prevails One song, one prayer—God bless the Prince of Wales. |