On Tuesday Victoria began, not only a new year, but a new century in her history.
When you are gone and I am gone Into the vague hereafter, And still the old world carries on With weeping and with laughter, I wonder how will run this tale Upon that far and secret day -- Of then who prosper, them who fall -- Another hundred years away. Shall it still be, as in the past, A glad and hopeful story Of men who ventured, yet held fast By peaceful paths to glory -- The glory won by methods sane And wisdom of an olden day? Or will their striving all prove vain, Another hundred years away. Here's hoping that the gods may grant The will to cleave to sanity, Confusing those who would supplant Old truths with that queer vanity That urges men to further schemes New-found, new-hatched but yesterday -- And win fulfilment of old dreams Come true a hundred years away. When you have passed, and I have passed Into the outer mystery, Grant we may see the spirit last That built this young land's history -- Spirit of those who were content To tread in peace the proven way, So men have yet less to repent Another hundred years away.
|Copyright © Perry Middlemiss 2003-06|