First Lady of our British Race! ’Tis well that with thy peaceful Jubilee This glorious dream begins to be, This thy lost Consort would, this would thy Son, Who has seen all thy Empire face to face And fain would leave it One, Oh, may the Hand which rules our Fate Keep this our Britain great! We cannot tell, we can but pray Heaven’s blessing on our work to-day. Uprise, oh, Palace fair, where every eye may see This proud embodied Unity! For Britain and our Queen one voice we raise, Laud them, rejoice, peal forth, worthy are they of praise! THE INAUGURAL ODE AS IT OUGHT TO HAVE BEEN. (_With Apologies to Mr. Lewis Morris._) With partial pomp and sounding bands of brass, And Royalties――both first and second class――, To-day the Queen, in semi-state, Consents a project to befriend Which for so long seemed doomed to end In a fiasco great! But at last, at last, the Prince his labour finds repaid―― The Imperial Institute’s foundation stone is laid! When first the grasping “Gang” its birth decreed, And greedily made Kensington its site, The project’s progress was but small, indeed, And the subscriptions strangely light. And though the Prince to the occasion rose, And summoned all the Mayors to town; Though hints of knighthood, too, were given to those Who’d put their names for large donations down; Though soldiers, too, and sailors, side by side, Were fiercely dunned throughout the Empire wide; Though everywhere subscription-lists were sent, O’er stormy sea, through distant continent; And though, worked artfully from Kensington, The “screw” was universally put on, The Empire set itself against the craze, And the new Institute was loath to raise. But was the “Gang” disheartened? Nay; It persevered, and gathered here to-day, Where “jobs” have in the past been done, It sees, we fear, one more begun, For, spite of all that has been said, Upon this latest subject light to shed; Spite of the promises which have been made That the new Institute shall foster trade; Spite, too, official zest and skill, And of the fervent hopes express’d, From North to South, from East to West, That it will some good end fulfil, And make the Empire yet more strong, We fear such hopes will all prove wrong, And that this building, with its tower so tall, Will only be the biggest “job” of all! Yet do we dare to-day, As in this solemn rite we here engage, To hope the future will our fears gainsay, And make this place a glorious heritage For all our people, and a source of strength Throughout the teeming Empire’s breadth and length. But, if we this would see, Then, by a stern decree, This Institute must be forthwith set free From greed and jobbery! Those who would batten on it must be told At once to loose their hold, So that it may uprise a Palace free and fair, In whose great benefits an Empire wide may share.