Victor In Drama, Victor In Romance, Cloud-Weaver Of Phantasmal Hopes And Fears, French Of The French, And Lord Of Human Tears; Child-Lover; Bard Whose Fame-Lit Laurels Glance Darkening The Wreaths Of All That Would Advance, Beyond Our Strait, Their Claim To Be Thy Peers; Weird Titan By Thy Winter Weight Of Years As Yet Unbroken, Stormy Voice Of France! Who Dost Not Love Our England'So They Say; I Know Not'England, France, All Man To Be Will Make One People Ere Man'S Race Be Run: And I, Desiring That Diviner Day, Yield Thee Full Thanks For Thy Full Courtesy To Younger England In The Boy My Son.