Obeisance made; then, pointing to the Cross, And forward moving t'ward the monarch's seat, Opened the great commission of the Faith:-- 'Behold the Eternal Maker of the worlds! That Hand which shaped the earth and blesses earth Must rule the race of man!' Majestic then As when, far winding from its mountain springs, City and palm-grove far behind it left, Some Indian river rolls, while mists dissolved Leave it in native brightness unobscured, And kingly navies share its sea-ward sweep, Forward on-flowed in Apostolic might Augustine's strong discourse. With God beginning, He showed the Almighty All-compassionate, Down drawn from distance infinite to man By the Infinite of Love. Lo, Bethlehem's crib! There lay the Illimitable in narrow bound: Thence rose that triumph of a world redeemed! Last, to the standard pointing, thus he spake: 'Yon Standard tells the tale! Six hundred years Westward it speeds from subject realm to realm: First from the bosom of God's Race Elect, His People, till they slew Him, mild it soared: Rejected, it returned. Above their walls While ruin rocked them, and the Roman fire, Dreadful it hung. When Rome had shared that guilt, Mocking that Saviour's Brethren, and His Bride, Above the conquered conqueror of all lands In turn this Standard flew. Who raised it high? A son of this your island, Constantine! In these, thine English oakwoods, Helena, 'Twas thine to nurse thy warrior. He had seen Star-writ in heaven the words this Standard bears, "Through Me is victory." Victory won, he raised High as his empire's queenly head, and higher, This Standard of the Eternal Dove thenceforth To fly where eagle standard never flew, God's glory in its track, goodwill to man. Advance for aye, great Emblem! Light as now Famed Asian headlands, and Hellenic isles! O'er snow-crowned Alp and citied Apennine Send forth a breeze of healing! Keep thy throne For ever on those western peaks that watch The setting sun descend the Hesperean wave, Atlas and Calpe! These, the old Roman bound, Build but the gateway of the Rome to be; Till Christ returns, thou Standard, hold them fast: But never till the North, that, age by age, Dashed back the Pagan Rome, with Christian Rome Partakes the spiritual crown of man restored, From thy strong flight above the world surcease, And fold thy wings in rest!' Upon the sod He knelt, and on that Standard gazed, and spake, Calm-voiced, with hand to heaven: 'I promise thee, Thou Sign, another victory, and thy best-- This island shall be thine!' Augustine rose And took the right hand of King Ethelbert, And placed therein the Standard's staff, and laid His own above the monarch's, speaking thus: