Sonnets Suggested by the Coronation of Queen Victoria

I. THE ABBEY.
Within the minster's venerable pile
What pomps unwonted flash upon our eyes!
What galleries, in gold and crimson, rise
Between the antique pillars of the aisle,
Crowded with England's gayest life; the while
Beneath, her dead, unconscious glory lies;
Above, her ancient faith still seeks the skies;
And with apparent life doth well beguile
Our senses in that ever-growing roof;
Whence on the soul return those recollections
Of her great annals — built to be time-proof,
Which chiefly make this spot the fittest scene
Wherein to consecrate those new affections
We plight this day to Britain's virgin queen.
II. THE Q.UEEN.
How strange to see a creature young and fair
Assume the sceptre of these widespread lands! —
How in her femininely feeble hands
The orb of empire shall she ever bear! —
And crowns, they say, not more with gems than care
Are weighty: yet with calmest mien she stands;
August in innocence herself commands,
And will that stately burden lightly wear.
Claims surely inoffensive! — What is she?
Of ancient sovereignty a living shoot;
The latest blossom on a royal tree
Deep in the past extends whose famous root;
And realms from age to age securely free,
Gather of social peace its yet unfailing fruit.
III. THE CROWNING.
How dazzling flash the streams of colour'd light,
When on her sacred brow the crown is placed!
And straight her peers and dames with haughty haste
Their coronets assume, as is their right,
With sudden blaze making the temple bright.
Does man's enthusiasm run to waste,
By which a queen's investiture is graced
With deafening demonstrations of delight,
That from the cannon's roar protect the ear?
We may not dare to think so, for His sake
Whose word has link'd king's honour and God's fear.
Nor is it servile clamour that we make,
Who, born ourselves to reign, in her revere
The kingly nature that ourselves partake.