CENTURIA
(TWELFTH NIGHT CHORUS, CENTURY ASSOCIATION)
The burthen is all that there is of this song,
Centuria!
Let it sound through the halls where our memories throng—
Where thy dead and thy living commingled belong;
Centuria, Centuria, vivat Centuria!
Let it sound till the wise and the gentle and brave,
Centuria,
Come back from the vale where their soft grasses wave,
And list to our revel and join in the stave;
Centuria, Centuria, vivat Centuria!
For the pen, lute and gown, and the iris-hued sky,
Centuria,
Were theirs, and are ours while the nights still go by
With song, wit and wassail, and true hearts anigh.
Centuria, Centuria, vivat Centuria!
Then love as they loved when thine eldest was young,
Centuria!
O the comrades that gossipped and painted and sung,
O the smoke-cloud that lingers their places among!
Centuria, Centuria, vivat Centuria!
And sing as they'll sing in thy fair years untold,
Centuria,
Strong hearts that shall follow, as tender and bold;
We may fade, we shall pass, but thou growest not old;
Centuria, Centuria, vivat Centuria!
1892