TO THE QUEEN.
(From the Nation.)
Queenly as womanly, those words that start
From sorrow's lip strike home to sorrow's heart.
Madam, our griefs are one;
But yours, from kinship close and your high place,
The keener, mourning him in youth's glad grace
Who loved you as a son.
We mourn him too. Our wreaths of votive flowers
Speak, mutely, for us. The deep gloom that lowers