George Whitfield Grote

“ In every continent, in every land,
Shall wield a power invincible for peace.
And mongrel peoples and untutored tongues,
Daring to hurl hatred and insolence
Broadcast against a treaty-keeping power,
Wisdom shall find in dire adversity.
VII.
Now rest we at the topmost arch of day,
And while, aloft along the sculptured clouds,
Alfred's high throne centres Antiquity
And all the valour of England's feudal reigns,
The flashing fires along the grim sea-walls
And bulwarks of Britannia's broadening zone
Send up a sacred flame around the towers
Of old Westminster. Here King Edward comes! ”

“ What god-like forms from out the clouds appear!
Mark where the lithesome Ganymede attends,
From silvery crest, vaulting to silvery crest,
Lightly o'erleaping every unfathomed cave,
Flashing a heliac ray around each cup.
But, now, King Alfred's court dissolves and forms
Anew! The panoramic summer page
Of history, slowly slipping from crag to crag,
Blends Alfred's throne into a triple throne,
Whereto, behold what king, in armour, comes! ”

“ And clustering courtiers mingle in the clouds:
Homer meets Milton on a celestial plain,
And Pericles, in Cromwell, finds a friend;
The soul of Juliet lives within the soul
Of Sophocles, where immortality
Enthrones and crowns the melancholy Dane,
And Shakespeare crowns, in turn, Antigone. ”

“ Build temples to Minerva, in the clouds,
Loitering, linger on legendary lore
And the divinity and power of Jove—
That we may lift our eyes to higher Light,
And, so await the coming of the King.
VI.
Now praise be given to God, the King of kings,
And anthems to the Lord of lords be sung
In loud hosannas! Let the bells proclaim
The day a joyous holiday for all!
A day for thankfulness and prayer to Him
In whom the king and queen and people trust ”