If thou be crowned, or if thou be not crowned With that imperial round
Thy forbears from the distant ages wore,
Sorrow and suffering for thee have earned
A guerdon fairer than thy hope discerned;
And through renunciation, thou hast found
A cirque of sovereignty not dreamed before.
If thou be crowned? Nay, thou art crowned now; For, lo! upon thy brow,
So lately shadowed by Death's mournful wing,
A mighty people's sympathy has laid An aureole whose brightness shall not fade:
Whose light, more worth than chrism, or seal, or vow,
Sceptre or throne, makes thee, indeed, a King!