MARCH FOURTH
1881-1882
One year ago the plaudits of the crowd, The drum’s long thunder and the bugle’s blare, The bell’s gay clamor, pealing clear and loud, And rapturous music filling all the air;
One year ago, on roofs and domes and spires, Ten thousand banners bursting into bloom As the proud day advanced its golden fires, And all the crowding centuries gave it room;
One year ago the laurel and the palm, The upward path, the height undimmed and far, And in the clear, strong light, serene and calm, One high, pure spirit, shining like a star!
To-day—for loud acclaims the long lament; For shouts of triumph, tears that fall like rain; A world remembering, with anguish rent, Thy long, unmurmuring martyrdom of pain!
The year moves on; the seasons come and go; Day follows day, and pale stars rise and set; Oh! in yon radiant heaven dost thou know The land that loved thee never can forget?
It doth not swerve—it keeps its onward way, Unfaltering still, from farthest sea to sea; Yet, while it owns another’s rightful sway, It patient grows and strong, remembering thee!
ROY
Our Prince has gone to his inheritance! Think it not strange. What if, with slight half-smile, Some crownèd king to leave his throne should chance, And try the rough ways of the world awhile?
Ere he had wearied of its storm and stress, Would he not hasten to his own again? Why should he bear its labor and duress, And all the untold burden of its pain?