Sea-kings' daughter from over the sea, Alexandra! Saxon and Norman and Dane are we, But all of us Danes in our welcome of thee, Alexandra! Welcome her, thunders of fort and of fleet! Welcome her, thundering cheer of the street! Welcome her, all things youthful and sweet, Scatter the blossom under her feet! Break, happy land, into earlier flowers! Make music, O bird, in the new-budded bowers! Blazon your mottos of blessing and prayer! Welcome her, welcome her, all that is ours! Warble, O bugle, and trumpet, blare! Flags, flutter out upon turrets and towers! Flames, on the windy headland flare! Utter your jubilee, steeple and spire! Clash, ye bells, in the merry March air! Flash, ye cities, in rivers of fire! Rush to the roof, sudden rocket, and higher Melt into stars for the land's desire! Roll and rejoice, jubilant voice, Roll as a ground-swell dash'd on the strand, Roar as the sea when he welcomes the land, And welcome her, welcome the land's desire, The sea-kings' daughter as happy as fair, Blissful bride of a blissful heir, Bride of the heir of the kings of the sea-- O joy to the people and joy to the throne, Come to us, love us, and make us your own: For Saxon or Dane or Norman we, Teuton or Celt, or whatever we be, We are each all Dane in our welcome of thee, Alexandra! ODE SUNG AT THE OPENING OF THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION. -----<>----- Uplift a thousand voices full and sweet, In this wide hall with earth's inventions stored, And praise th' invisible universal Lord, Who lets once more in peace the nations meet, Where Science, Art, and Labor have outpour'd Their myriad horns of plenty at our feet. O silent father of our Kings to be Mourn'd in this golden hour of jubilee, For this, for all, we weep our thanks to thee! The world-compelling plan was thine, And, lo! the long laborious miles Of Palace; lo! the giant aisles, Rich in model and design; Harvest-tool and husbandry, Loom and wheel and engin'ry, Secrets of the sullen mine, Steel and gold, and corn and wine, Fabric rough, or Fairy fine, Sunny tokens of the Line, Polar marvels, and a feast Of wonder, out of West and East, And shapes and hues of Part divine! All of beauty, all of use, That one fair planet can produce. Brought from under every star, Blown from over every main, And mixt, as life is mixt with pain, The works of peace with works of war.