THE JUBILEE OF 1850 POEM by Adelaide Anne Procter
Poetry from A Chaplet of Verses.
ADELAIDE ANNE PROCTER – THE JUBILEE OF 1850 POEM
[The titles of the ‘Island of Saints’ and the ‘Dower of Our Lady’,
though more frequently applied to Ireland, were often given to
England in former times.]
BLESS God, ye happy Lands,
For your more favoured lot:
Our England dwells apart,
Yet oh, forget her not.
While, with united joy,
This day you all adore,
Remember what she was,
Though her voice is heard no more.
Pray for our desolate land,
Left in her pride and power:
She was the Isle of Saints,
She was Our Lady’s Dower.
Look on her ruined Altars;
HE dwelleth there no more :
Think what her empty churches
Have been in times of yore;
She knows the names no longer
Of her own sainted dead,
Denies the faith they held,
And the cause for which they bled.
Then pray for our desolate land,
Left in her pride and power
She was the Isle of Saints,
She was Our Lady’s Dower.
‘Pray that her vast Cathedrals,
Deserted, empty, bare,
May once more echo accents
Of Love, and Faith, and Prayer;
That the holy sign may bless us,
On wood, and field, and plain,
And Jesus, Mary, Joseph,
May dwell with us again.
Pray, ye more faithful nations,
In this most happy hour:
She was the Isle of Saints,
She was Our Lady’s Dower.
Beg of our Lord to give her
The gift she cast aside,
And in His mercy pardon
Her faithlessness and pride:
Pray to her Saints, who worship
Before God’s mercy Throne;
Look where our Queen is dwelling,
Ask her to claim her own,
To give her the proud titles
Lost in an evil hour—
She was the Isle of Saints,
She was Our Lady’s Dower.
Adelaide Anne Procter – A Chaplet of Verses
