Sovereign Woman. A Ballad.

A poem by Thomas Moore

The dance was o'er, yet still in dreams
That fairy scene went on;
Like clouds still flusht with daylight gleams
Tho' day itself is gone.
And gracefully to music's sound,
The same bright nymphs were gliding round;
While thou, the Queen of all, wert there--
The Fairest still, where all were fair.
The dream then changed--in halls of state,
I saw thee high enthroned;
While, ranged around, the wise, the great,
In thee their mistress owned;
And still the same, thy gentle sway
O'er willing subjects won its way--
Till all confest the Right Divine
To rule o'er man was only thine!

But, lo, the scene now changed again--
And borne on plumed steed,
I saw thee o'er the battle-plain
Our land's defenders lead:
And stronger in thy beauty's charms,
Than man, with countless hosts in arms,
Thy voice, like music, cheered the Free,
Thy very smile was victory!

Nor reign such queens on thrones alone--
In cot and court the same,
Wherever woman's smile is known,
Victoria's still her name.
For tho' she almost blush to reign,
Tho' Love's own flowerets wreath the chain,
Disguise our bondage as we will,
'Tis woman, woman, rules us still.

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