1847

ODE, PERFORMED IN THE SENATE-HOUSE, CAMBRIDGE, ON THE 6TH OF JULY 1847, AT THE FIRST COMMENCEMENT AFTER THE INSTALLATION OF HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS THE PRINCE ALBERT, CHANCELLOR OF THE UNIVERSITY.[429]

INSTALLATION ODE

Composed 1847.—Published 1847.

INTRODUCTION AND CHORUS

For thirst of power that Heaven disowns,

For temples, towers, and thrones,

Too long insulted by the Spoiler’s shock,

Indignant Europe cast

Her stormy foe at last

To reap the whirlwind on a Libyan rock.

SOLO.—TENOR

War is passion’s basest game

Madly played to win a name;

Up starts some tyrant, Earth and Heaven to dare;

The servile million bow;

But will the lightning glance aside to spare

The Despot’s laurelled brow?

CHORUS

War is mercy, glory, fame,

Waged in Freedom’s holy cause;

Freedom, such as Man may claim

Under God’s restraining laws.

Such is Albion’s fame and glory:

Let rescued Europe tell the story.

RECIT. (accompanied).—CONTRALTO

But lo, what sudden cloud has darkened all

The land as with a funeral pall?

The Rose of England suffers blight,

The flower has drooped, the Isle’s delight,

Flower and bud together fall—

A Nation’s hopes lie crushed in Claremont’s desolate hall.

AIR.—SOPRANO

Time a chequered mantle wears;—

Earth awakes from wintry sleep;

Again the Tree a blossom bears,—

Cease, Britannia, cease to weep!

Hark to the peals on this bright May-morn!

They tell that your future Queen is born!

SOPRANO SOLO AND CHORUS

A Guardian Angel fluttered

Above the Babe, unseen;

One word he softly uttered—

It named the future Queen:

And a joyful cry through the Island rang,

As clear and bold as the trumpet’s clang,

As bland as the reed of peace—

“VICTORIA be her name!”

For righteous triumphs are the base

Whereon Britannia rests her peaceful fame.

QUARTETT

Time, in his mantle’s sunniest fold,

Uplifted in his arms the child;

And, while the fearless Infant smiled,

Her happier destiny foretold:—

“Infancy, by Wisdom mild,

Trained to health and artless beauty;

Youth, by Pleasure unbeguiled

From the lore of lofty duty;

Womanhood in pure renown,

Seated on her lineal throne:

Leaves of myrtle in her Crown,

Fresh with lustre all their own.

Love, the treasure worth possessing

More than all the world beside,

This shall be her choicest blessing,

Oft to royal hearts denied.”

RECIT. (accompanied).—BASS

That eve, the Star of Brunswick shone

With stedfast ray benign

On Gotha’s ducal roof, and on

The softly flowing Leine;

Nor failed to gild the spires of Bonn,

And glittered on the Rhine.—

Old Camus too on that prophetic night

Was conscious of the ray;

And his willows whispered in its light,

Not to the Zephyr’s sway,

But with a Delphic life, in sight

Of this auspicious day:

CHORUS

This day, when Granta hails her chosen Lord,

And proud of her award,

Confiding in the Star serene

Welcomes the Consort of a happy Queen.

AIR.—CONTRALTO

Prince, in these Collegiate bowers,

Where Science, leagued with holier truth,

Guards the sacred heart of youth,

Solemn monitors are ours.

These reverend aisles, these hallowed towers,

Raised by many a hand august,

Are haunted by majestic Powers,

The memories of the Wise and Just,

Who, faithful to a pious trust,

Here, in the Founder’s spirit sought

To mould and stamp the ore of thought

In that bold form and impress high

That best betoken patriot loyalty.

Not in vain those Sages taught.—

True disciples, good as great,

Have pondered here their country’s weal,

Weighed the Future by the Past,

Learned how social frames may last,

And how a Land may rule its fate

By constancy inviolate,

Though worlds to their foundations reel,

The sport of factious Hate or godless Zeal.

AIR.—BASS

Albert, in thy race we cherish

A Nation’s strength that will not perish

While England’s sceptered Line

True to the King of Kings is found;

Like that Wise[430] Ancestor of thine

Who threw the Saxon shield o’er Luther’s life,

When first, above the yells of bigot strife,

The trumpet of the Living Word

Assumed a voice of deep portentous sound

From gladdened Elbe to startled Tiber heard.

CHORUS

What shield more sublime

E’er was blazoned or sung?

And the PRINCE whom we greet

From its Hero is sprung.

Resound, resound the strain

That hails him for our own!

Again, again, and yet again;

For the Church, the State, the Throne!—

And that Presence fair and bright,

Ever blest wherever seen,

Who deigns to grace our festal rite,

The pride of the Islands, VICTORIA THE QUEEN!

[429] This “Ode” was printed and sung at Cambridge on the occasion of the installation of His Royal Highness Prince Albert as Chancellor of the University. It was published in the newspapers of the following day, as “written for the occasion by the Poet Laureate, by royal command.”

There is no evidence, however, that Wordsworth wrote a single line of it. Dr. Cradock used to attribute the authorship to the poet’s nephew, the late Bishop of Lincoln. It is much more likely that Edward Quillinan was the author of the whole, although Christopher Wordsworth may have revised it. Mr. Aubrey de Vere wrote to me, November 12, 1893, “It was from Miss Fenwick that I heard that the Laureate poem (Ode, etc.), was written by Quillinan, at Wordsworth’s request, he having himself wholly failed in a reluctant attempt to write one. If he had written it, I doubt much whether he would ever have admitted it to a place among his works, for he did not hold ‘Laureate Odes’ in honour, and had only taken the Laureateship on the condition that he was to write none. Tennyson made the same condition: which could not, of course, interfere with either poet addressing lines to the Queen, if they felt specially moved from within to do so.”

Miss Frances Arnold writes, “Miss Quillinan was my authority for saying that the Cambridge Ode had been written by her father, owing to the deep depression in which Wordsworth then was.”—Ed.

[430] Frederic the Wise, Elector of Saxony (1847).