High-throned in the love of a nation's heart,
Rich treasures of promise, I ween, Cheer the steps of our youthful Queen; Lighten the future, and courage impart.
III.
Full oft, o'er the fairest spring morning,
There falleth a bitter, cold blight; Oft shroudeth in darksomest night The ruddiest sun heaven adorning.
So fell he in full flush of his manhood,
So dropt they in life's glowing spring; Yet the anguished soul wakened to sing, The tear-bedimmed eyes perceived the All-Good.
Richer than diamond of Indian mine
The treasure Victoria owns; Firmest pillar of earthly thrones, True sympathy,—typing the Love Divine.
Thrice blessèd sympathy! may it surround
And cheer her graceful evening's calm; Till sceptre yields to victor's palm, May the faith and hope, and the love abound.
Voice then the homage of millions as one;
Wreathe garlands of amaranth flowers; Nor last be Canada—hers and ours;— For here doth the blood of true fealty run.
Thunder it over the wide ocean's sheen!
Sing it by peaceful inland sea; "God bless our glorious Jubilee! God bless and defend our most noble Queen!"