Majestic Monarch! whom the other gods,

For fear of their immediate removal,

Consulting hourly, seek your awful nod’s

Approval;

Lift but your little finger up to strike,

And lo! ‘the massy earth is riven’ (Shelley),

The habitable globe is shaken like

A jelly.

By your express permission for the last

Eight years the sun has regularly risen;

And editors, that questioned this, have passed

To prison.

In Art you simply have to say, “I shall!”

Beethoven’s fame is rendered transitory;

And Titian cloys beside your clever all-

-egory.

77

We hailed you Admiral: your eagle sight

Foresaw Her Majesty’s benign intentions;

A uniform was ready of the right

Dimensions.

Your wardrobe shines with all the shapes and shades,

That genius can fix in fancy suitings;

For levÉes, false alarums, full parades

And shootings.

But save the habit marks the man of gore

Your spurs are yet to win, my callow Kaiser!

Of fighting in the field you know no more

Than I, Sir!

When Grandpapa was thanking God with hymns

For gallant Frenchmen dying in the ditches,

Your nurse had barely braced your little limbs

In breeches.

78

And doubtless, where he roosts beside his bock,

The Game Old Bird that played the leading fiddle

Smiles grimly as he hears your perky cock-

-a-diddle.

Be well advised, my youthful friend, abjure

These tricks that smack of Cleon and the tanners;

And let the Dutch instruct a German Boor

In manners.

Nor were you meant to solve the nations’ knots,

Or be the Earth’s Protector, willy-nilly;

You only make yourself and royal Pots-

-dam silly.

Our racing yachts are not at present dressed

In bravery of bunting to amuse you,

Nor can the licence of an honoured guest

Excuse you.

79

But if your words are more than wanton play

And you would like to meet the old sea-rover,

Name any course from Delagoa Bay

To Dover.

Meanwhile observe a proper reticence;

We ask no more; there never was a rumour

Of asking Hohenzollerns for a sense

Of humour!