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victoria.
They told me the rich silken robe that she wore
Was of exquisite texture and loveliest die,
Embroider'd with blossoms of silver all o'er,
And clasp'd with pure jewels that dazzled the eye:
I saw not, I thought not of clasp, robe, or wreath,
I thought of the timid heart beating beneath.
Was of exquisite texture and loveliest die,
Embroider'd with blossoms of silver all o'er,
And clasp'd with pure jewels that dazzled the eye:
I saw not, I thought not of clasp, robe, or wreath,
I thought of the timid heart beating beneath.
I was born in a land where they bend not the knee,
Save to One—unto whom even monarchs bow down:
But lo! as I gazed, in my breast springing free,
Jove knelt to her sweetness, forgetting her crown;
And my heart might have challenged the myriads there,
For the warmth of its praise, and the truth of its prayer.
Save to One—unto whom even monarchs bow down:
But lo! as I gazed, in my breast springing free,
Jove knelt to her sweetness, forgetting her crown;
And my heart might have challenged the myriads there,
For the warmth of its praise, and the truth of its prayer.
And to her—to that maiden, young, innocent, gay,
With the wild-rose of childhood yet warm on her cheek,
And a spirit, scarce calm'd from its infantine play
Into woman's deep feeling, devoted and meek;
To her—in the bloom of her shadowless youth—
Proud millions are turning with chivalrous truth.
With the wild-rose of childhood yet warm on her cheek,
And a spirit, scarce calm'd from its infantine play
Into woman's deep feeling, devoted and meek;
To her—in the bloom of her shadowless youth—
Proud millions are turning with chivalrous truth.
