On his right hand, eyes sparkling bright,
Sat Alexandra, England’s own.—
She saw, was seen, and spell’d the night:
Yet there were other stars that shone,
Whose smiling countenances glowed
With love, and hope, and charity;
Within whose bosoms freely flowed
The stream which mark’d their ancestry,—
Of ancestors who scared the foe
With swords and bucklers, armour bent,