Be that your chief of mourning--that!--
_ENGLAND_, O Mother, and you,
The daughter Kingdoms born and reared
Of _ENGLAND'S_ travail and sweet blood;
And never will you lands,
The live Earth over and round,
Wherethrough for sixty royal and radiant years
Her drum-tap made the dawns
English--Never will you
So fittingly and well have paid your debt
Of grief and gratitude to the souls
That sink in _ENGLAND'S_ harness into the dream:
'I die for _ENGLAND'S_ sake, and it is well':
As now to this valiant, wonderful piece of earth,
To which the assembling nations bare the head,
And bend the knee,
In absolute veneration--once your Queen.
_Sceptre and orb and crown_,
_High ensigns of a sovranty empaling_
_The glory and love and praise of a whole half-world_,
_Fall from her_, _and_, _preceding_, _she departs_
_Into the old_, _indissoluble Peace_.