WELCOME TO LORD CURZON.

Evening Star, Issue 12722, 27 January 1906, Page 4

WELCOME TO LORD CURZON.

[This poem refers to Lord Crayon's quotation of Psalm xlv., 7, in his farewell to India at Bombay on November 15.]

Thou, who the grandest crown hast taken off With thine own hand our first o-f men can wear, O full of toil "beyond the taunt of scoff.

Welcome, high welcome, to our wintry air— Full well our English instinct knows a man; What worthy wreath of words shall we pre-

pare? Not lights of speech and flowers—what all

may scan— Some words of thee well-loved, majestic, calm. Of on august simplicity that can Outvie ail our comparison—a psalm,

Whose life is told by thousand of our years Heaven-high, yet full of home’s familiar balm.

So to our race in India full and strong Fell from thy lips that phrase no time out-

wears: “Thou hast loved righteousness and hated wrong.” Thus spake our great men of the olden

time. Who grandly spoke, because they grandly thought— Whose spirit first, then speech, became sublime! Colossal brevity as by magic wrought, Catching the difficult ear of after time; Restraint—and not effusion—dearly bought. Now, when our politic armies in their place Stand clamoring by the fires along their line, Each battle sees the other’s angry face. Gome now with utterance of the men of old, Como thou, bo judged of all this land of thine— Not with a pomp of color and of gold. Thy speech is not like those who fain would try Moonbeams through glass—a lovely impotence, Lustrous but lifeless, fading tirelesslyThou who has instinct of a mighty work. Of the great utterance of the days gone by. Superb as Chatham, steadfast-eouled as Burke. ’Wnvr.iAw Ajima-gh (Archbishop). —'The Times.’