Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. V. Browning to Rupert Brooke
William Johnson Cory (18231892)Extracts from Ionica: A Queens Visit (1851)
F
The lady Gloriana passed,
To view her realms: the south wind bore
Her shallop to Belleisle at last.
Above the curving wave, which rolls
On slowly crumbling banks, to send
Its hard-won spoils to lazy shoals.
Where fate was writ for Saxon seer;
And yonder park is white with may,
Where shadowy hunters chased the deer.
Stiff-silvered fairies; busy rooks
Caw from the elm; and, rung to church,
Mute anglers drop their caddised hooks.
When the twin towers give four-fold chimes;
And lo! the breaking groups, where falls
The chequered shade of quivering limes.
With dewy hair and veinèd throat,
One floor to tread with reverent feet,—
One hour of rest for ball and boat:
When autumn whispers, play no more,
They check the laugh, with fancies bright
Still hovering round the sacred door.
Lo! manhood bursting from the bud:
Two growths, unlike; yet all agreed
To trust the movement of the blood.
They love the winner of the race,
If only he that prospers looks
On prizes with a simple grace.
They scorn not him who turns aside
To woo alone a milder Muse,
If shielded by a tranquil pride.
Whate’er is done in this sweet isle,
There ’s none that may not lift his horn,
If only lifted with a smile.
Who ruled in every clime on earth,
Find any spring more fit to be
The fountain of her festal mirth.
But hither came for vernal joy:
Nor was this all: she smote the heart
And woke the hero in the boy.