PO E M S BY ALFRED TENNYSON, D.C.L., POET LAUREATE. ELEVENTH EDITION. LONDON: 1856. TO THE QUEEN. REVERED, beloved— you that hold earth Than arms, or power of brain, or birth Could give the warrior kings of old, Victoria,-since your Royal grace To one of less desert allows This laurel greener from the brows Of him that utter'd nothing base; And should your greatness, and the care That yokes with empire, yield you time To make demand of modern rhyme If aught of ancient worth be there; |