The Coronation Poem by Martin Farquhar Tupper

Queen of the Isles, blue ocean's choicest pearl,
We hail thy day of glory! - unto thee
Admiring thousands bend the duteous knee,
And bless thee for their brightening hopes, fair girl.
Hark! 'tis the thunder of a nation's voice,
Uttering its awful love in loyal peals;
While, as thy car of triumph onward wheels,
The trumpets, and the cannon, and the chimes,
Bid every true-born Briton's heart rejoice,
Glad in the sunny light of happier times:
And, Royal Lady, if amid the whirl
Of majesty and greatness,- as of old,
A secret monitor, in duty bold,
To tell thee 'Thou Art Mortal,' humbly dares,
Forgive the noble Muse, and love her for her pray'rs.