III.
Blow! ye silvery bugles, over the sunny land,
Our Queen has yielded to love.
Ring out with merry clangor, O ye bells!
Ye mountains! give the laughing bells reply.
Hark! how the joyous tumult sinks and swells,
And beats against the sky
In melody!
Mark how the billows of the mighty sea
Toss their white arms in glee,
And race along the strand,
Joining their voices with the symphony!
Our Queen has yielded to love.
Blow! silvery bugles blow!
That all may know.
IV.
Toll! toll! ye deep-mouthed bells,
Answer! each thundering gun.
Your cadence sadly tells
Of a great life-work done.
Death rules this changing earth,
Through royal halls he stalks,
And with an awful mirth
Man's noblest efforts mocks.
He stills the busy brain,
Tears loving souls apart,
And leaves alone to reign
A Queen with empty heart.
Upon her lonely throne
She sits, and ever weeps,
For him who, once her own,
Now wed to heaven sleeps.
Albert has fallen, conquered by Death's dart,
A shadow lies across her anguished heart.
She dwells in loneliness that none can gauge;
In grief that only heaven can assuage.
She trembles and her soul would fain depart,
And beats with tireless wings against its cage.
Oh! live for us, dear Queen,
Thou who for years hast been
Our leader in all good,
Live! Live for us, O Queen!