Down at thy feet, and stormy Winter speak
Sternly of man's neglect. But now we come
To do thee homage—Mother of our chief!—
Fit homage, such as honoreth him who pays.
Methinks we see thee, as in olden time—
Simple in garb, majestic, and serene;
Unmoved by pomp or circumstances: in truth
Inflexible; and, with a Spartan zeal,
Repressing vice and making folly grave.
Thou didst not deem it woman's part to waste