In that fierce light which beats upon a

throne,

And blackens every blot: for where is he,
Who dares foreshadow for an only son
A lovelier life, a more unstain'd, than his?
Or how should England dreaming of his

sons

Hope more for these than some inheritance Of such a life, a heart, a mind as thine, Thou noble Father of her Kings to be, Laborious for her people and her poorVoice in the rich dawn of an ampler day— Far-sighted summoner of War and Waste To fruitful strifes and rivalries of peace— Sweet nature gilded by the gracious gleam Of letters, dear to Science, dear to Art, Dear to thy land and ours, a Prince indeed, Beyond all titles, and a household name, Hereafter, thro' all times, Albert the Good.

Break not, O woman's-heart, but still

endure ;

Break not, for thou art Royal, but endure, Remembering all the beauty of that star Which shone so close beside Thee that

ye made

One light together, but has past and leaves The Crown a lonely splendour.

May all love, His love, unseen but felt, o'ershadow Thee, The love of all Thy sons encompass Thee, The love of all Thy daughters cherish Thee, The love of all Thy people comfort Thee, Till God's love set Thee at his side again!

LEODOGRAN, the King of Cameliard, Had one fair daughter, and none other child;

And she was fairest of all flesh on earth, Guinevere, and in her his one delight.

For many a petty king ere Arthur came Ruled in this isle, and ever waging war Each upon other, wasted all the land; And still from time to time the heathen

host

Swarm'd overseas, and harried what was

left.

To human sucklings; and the children, housed.

In her foul den, there at their meat would growl,

And mock their foster-mother on four feet, Till, straighten'd, they grew up to wolflike men,

Worse than the wolves. And King Leodogran

Groan'd for the Roman legions here again, And Cæsar's eagle: then his brother king, Urien, assail'd him: last a heathen horde,

ness,

Wherein the beast was ever more and

more,

But man was less and less, till Arthur

came.

For first Aurelius lived and fought and died,

And after him King Uther fought and died, But either fail'd to make the kingdom

one.

And after these King Arthur for a space, And thro' the puissance of his Table Round,

Drew all their petty princedoms under him,

Their king and head, and made a realm, and reign'd.

And thus the land of Cameliard was waste,

Thick with wet woods, and many a beast therein,

And none or few to scare or chase the beast;

So that wild dog, and wolf and boar and bear

Came night and day, and rooted in the fields,

And wallow'd in the gardens of the King. And ever and anon the wolf would steal The children and devour, but now and then,

Her own brood lost or dead, lent her fierce teat

with blood,