Rides Progress aloft on triumphal car,
Out-coursing the wings of the wind; To the gorgeous fanes of Ind Rich blossoms his path, from the Polar star.
Philanthrophy opeth her gentle hand;
Devotion Heaven's dictate obeys; Dawns clearly Hope's halcyon days;— Golden their gleam, as Aurora's bright wand.
Live Commerce, careering the white crested wave,
Quells baneful suspicion and fear; From high unto lowliest sphere Blendeth in union—our Empire to save.
II.
Praise for those virtues which never wax old,
Lustrous gems in a noble life; Praise for the calm amid the strife;— Serene is the spirit of sterling gold.
Rolls from our vision the mist of the years,
Adown through the dark aisles of time, Life's canvas, with picture sublime, In its radiance of beauty, appears.
Soft falleth the sun of a kindly zone
On the Abbey, so old and grey; On the tomb of a former day; Bathing in splendor the image of stone.
Sparkling in flame on the jewelled brow
Of the peeress, highborn and fair; Anon on the mouldering chair, Yclad of the royal, pure ermine, now.
Arrayed in the trappings of princely state,
Loadstar of a glittering band; Our fair young Lady of the land— She stands—the greatest where all are great.
Crowned with the crown which her brave fathers bore,
Largess of honors kiss her feet; Enwraps her with dignity meet Prestige of might, as the birthright of yore.