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 THE 
 
 VICTORIAN JUBILEE 
 
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 BY JOHN BAKER 
 
 ' JUL 29 1887' ; 
 
 TROY, N. Y.: 
 CHARLES W. HARRIS, 351 BROADWAY. /f 
 
 1887. ^ 
 
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 Copyrighted, 1887, by C. W. Harris. 
 
 Sio^vell Printing House, 5 Cannon Place, Troy, N. V. 
 
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 ^TiiE Victnrian JubilGG^ 
 
 ^T, TAIL ! Hail ! all hail, Victoria ! 
 (ol JL Queen of the British realm ! 
 Hail to the hand that fifty years 
 So well hath held the helm ! 
 
 Hail, royal brow, that fifty years 
 Hath worn earth's brightest crown ! 
 
 Hail, royal mother, good and true ! 
 Hail to thy bright renown ! 
 
 Sing Jubilee ! Smg Jubilee ! 
 
 From Britain, round and round. 
 Let lines of length and latitude 
 
 Be vocal with the sound. 
 
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 Sing Jubilee ! 'Tis fifty years — 
 
 And every year an age, 
 Brighter by far than any grav'd 
 
 On earth's historic page. 
 
 "I'is fifty years, Britannia, 
 
 Since first thy loyal heart 
 Espoused its Queen, with bond and vow. 
 
 Which naught but death shall part. 
 
 Fond memory spreads a bounteous feast, 
 
 With all that life endears ; 
 A banquet mete to celebrate 
 
 'I'iiis half a hundred years. 
 
 Ring, merry bells of Britain, ring 
 
 Your happiest roundelays ; 
 Peals that shall tell again the joys 
 
 Of thousand yesterdays. 
 
 Sound ! trumpets, viols, clarions, sound ! 
 
 Ye mighty guns, give voice ! 
 The world's our guest ; now to the feast. 
 
 And let each heart rejoice. 
 
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 Fill up a bumper ! Three times three ! 
 
 Shout ! till the welkin ring, 
 For Britain's Queen — Then Britain, and 
 
 The Jubilee we sing. 
 
 Here, Merry England, here's to thee ! 
 
 Now count thy mercies o'er. 
 Here, Bonny Scotland, here's to thee ! 
 
 Thou'rt loyal to the core. 
 
 Here, Ireland, — dash away thy tears 
 
 And join the jubilee ; — 
 Here's to thee ! and thou shalt challenge all 
 
 Who doubt thy loyalty. 
 
 See white-robed Peace and and gory War 
 
 Click glasses at the board ; 
 See Industry and Art strike hands 
 
 Above their well-earned hoard. 
 
 See Invention, whose myriad works 
 
 Add lux'ry to the feast ; 
 Earth's millions now "run to and fro. 
 
 And knowledge is increased." 
 
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 Behold the progress in the Arts 
 
 These fifty years display ! 
 From tallow dip, with rush-light flame, 
 
 To light that rivals day. 
 
 From old stage coach, and carrier's van, 
 
 Up to the palace car ; 
 From flint and steel, and tinder-box. 
 
 Up to the lucifer. 
 
 From postman here, fresh horses there. 
 
 And echoing bugle horns, 
 To Rowland Hill and penny-post, 
 
 With Fawcett's wondrous forms. 
 
 The seas are span'd, and messages 
 
 Of joy or misery, 
 Fly like the bolt that cleaves the sky 
 
 From Jove's great archery. 
 
 Yea ! the fierce lightning wears its chain. 
 
 And learns to do man's will. 
 And bear him luxuries once undreamed— 
 
 Now needful to his fill. 
 
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 Behold the burnished lines of steel 
 That traverse earth's broad face ! 
 
 Old England's wooden-walls are gone, 
 And steel-clads take their place. 
 
 Mo longer serfdom, in disguise, 
 Owns lords' or barons' tread — 
 
 Each man of worth is enfranchised, 
 And each lifts up his head ; 
 
 The hovel of the former years 
 (lives place to cottage neat ; 
 
 The Jew, so many an age proscribed, 
 lu parliament finds a seat. 
 
 Discovery, with eager eye, 
 
 Patrols creation's bound, 
 And challenges each errant star. 
 
 Or times the planets' round. 
 
 Mark him who pierces nature's heart. 
 And grasps the secrets there ; 
 
 Reading the strata far beneath 
 The vesture she doth wear. 
 
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 See, from their graves of thousand years, 
 
 Old Troy and Pompeii 
 Rise up and yield their treasures vast, 
 
 To grace our jubilee. 
 
 Sound the loud trumpet ! give it breath ! 
 
 A king ! a king appears ! 
 Though clad in cerements, and dead 
 
 Almost four thousand years. 
 
 Lo ! (ireat Sesostris ! Egypt's Lord ! 
 
 From his unquiet tomb 
 Comes forth and stands in open day, 
 
 Ere the great day of doom. 
 
 All Hail ! All Hail ! Great Rameses ! 
 
 Thou great substantial shade ! 
 Thuu com'st uhbidden to our feast, 
 
 Still, room for thee is made. 
 
 But tell us first, ^was't thou,' whose hand 
 
 So heavily was laid 
 On Israel's sons, when in thy land 
 
 Such mighty works were made ? 
 
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 Was't thou, who doomed the infant boys 
 
 Of Jacob's enslaved race ? 
 ^Vhoi^e daughter found the tiny ark 
 
 Hid in the reedy place ? 
 
 Was't thou, before whom Moses stood 
 And wrought such wonders there ? 
 
 Whose first born fell beneath the sword 
 The d'stroying angel bare ? 
 
 Speak out ! Was't thou, or son of thine, 
 O'er whom sweet Miriam sang, 
 
 "The Lord hath triumphed gloriously," 
 While her loud timbrel rang ? 
 
 And maidens caught the joyful strain, 
 " He hath triumphed gloriously, 
 
 " The chariot, horse and rider, He 
 " Hath whelmed in the sea." 
 
 IVas't ihou, O Pharaoh ! type of pride ? 
 
 Thy glory is brought low ! 
 Wast thou, who Israel's God defied ? 
 
 Tnou'rt puppet in a show ! 
 
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 Strike I cymbals, strike ! the scene is changed, 
 
 The banquet is resumed, 
 And India greets her Empress to 
 
 The music now attuned. 
 
 O Lands of Orient — wonder lands — 
 What wonders have been wrought 
 
 Within your bounds these fifty years ! 
 With what a treasure bought ! 
 
 Burmah, thou youngest of the train 
 
 To grace our jubilee, 
 Do'st thou remember Judson, and 
 
 The life he gave to thee ? 
 
 O fields of missions, fields of war, 
 
 Fields of great industry — 
 Welcome ! thrice welcome, one and all, 
 
 To our great jubilee. 
 
 The jubilean kaleidoscope 
 
 Moves on its mighty round ; 
 Its centre — jubilee, — its rays 
 
 Reach earth's remotest bound ; 
 
 
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 And from the far Antipodes 
 Come greetings on the breeze, 
 
 For Australasian loyalty 
 Spans the great tropic seas. 
 
 Victoria and her sister band 
 
 Of colonies so fair, 
 Bow to the sceptre which their Queen, 
 
 Victoria, doth bear. 
 
 And loyal hearts, and happy homes, 
 And prosperous marts are theirs ; 
 
 Young, strong and vigorous are they, 
 Burn in these fifty years. 
 
 And Canada's dominion fair. 
 With Newfoundland in suit. 
 
 All have a wealth of loyalty, 
 With liberty to boot. 
 
 Oh Empire vast ! how grand art thou ! 
 
 Stretching thine arms afar ! 
 How bountiful thou art in Peace ! 
 
 How terrible in War ! 
 
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 How like the lions on thy shield, 
 
 All couchant, three and three, 
 Or Scotia's — rampant — like her sons 
 
 Before the enemy. 
 
 Oh Queen, with such a glorious realm ! 
 
 Oh realm, with such a Queen ! 
 Each reigning in the heart of each, 
 
 With naught to intervene. 
 
 O happy Queen ! thy realm's thy crown. 
 More blight than gems or gold ! 
 
 O happy realm ! thy Queen's pure life 
 Is joy to thee untold. 
 
 Sing Jubilee ! sing Jubilee ! 
 
 From Britain round and round ! 
 Let lines of length and latitude 
 
 Be vocal with the sound. 
 
 List ! list ! a solemn strain is heard ! 
 
 Its stately, measured tread 
 Tells the "Dead March," and calls each heart 
 
 To' remembrance of the dead. 
 
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 The Worthy Dead ! the Mighty Dead 
 
 Of ihis half century ! 
 Where is the chronicle could hold 
 
 E'en half the memory? 
 
 Their names are graven on the stars, 
 
 On fields of blood and peace, 
 On ragged schools, on hospitals — 
 
 Where does their record cease ? 
 
 Rise, every guest — in silence rise, 
 
 And bare and bow each head ; 
 In solemn silence fill, and drink 
 
 In honor of the dead. 
 
 Droop the rich banner ! shroud the scene ! 
 
 Boom ! boom ! the distant guns, 
 And the sad memory, ever green, 
 
 Moves on with mufified drums. 
 
 Let others mourn the "good old times," 
 
 And talk of "good Queen Bess ;" 
 I sing the good Victorian age, 
 
 And count all others less. 
 
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 True, Shakespeare of his art was lord, 
 
 As each age since records ; 
 But we have lords who wield the pen, 
 
 And pens that wield the lords. 
 
 Pens all aflame with ardent zeal — 
 Kings tremble neath their frown ; 
 
 Pens that speak peace from heav'n above, 
 And bear its blessings down. 
 
 Blessings from heav'n ! when did they pour 
 
 Down on the earth as now ? 
 Man's primal curse has been transformed, 
 
 And blessings wreathe its brow. 
 
 Praise heav'n, loved Queen, which made as one 
 
 Thee and thy people — twain, — 
 And plactd within thy subjects' hearts 
 
 Thy " right divine " to reign. 
 
 Praise heav'n, loved Britain, praise thy God, 
 
 " His mercies bear in mind ; 
 "Forget not all His benefits, 
 
 " Who is 10 thee so kind." 
 
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 Hail ! Hail ! ! Hail ! ! ! Hail the Jubilee ! ! ! ! 
 
 Hail to the banner bright ! 
 All hail, Great Britain ! hail to thee ! 
 
 Thou art a goodly sight. 
 
 Hail, Union Jack ! thou saucy flag ! 
 
 Hail to thy jubilee ! 
 The wide, wide world salutes to-day, 
 
 And doffs its hat to thee ! 
 
 Lansingbtirgh, -V. F., U. S. A., 
 
 June 21, iSS-j. 
 
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