A Golden Largesse From A Store Untold Announced The Ruddy Day'S Imperial Birth, And Woke A Loyal World To Jubilant Mirth And Hopes That Boasted, Madly Over-Bold. Shadow And Thunder From A Dull Cloud Rolled, A Shiver Chilled The Lately Glittering Firth, As Gloom Set Heavy Hand Upon The Earth; Yet Look, On Westward Hills A Gleam Of Gold. You Have Laughed And Bidden Us Laugh, O Lord Of Jest; You Have Wept And Given Us Grief, O Lonely Friend; And Now We Sit With Silent Lips And White, And Dream What Craggy Ways Thou Wanderest, Not Finding Yet Of Hope Or Strife An End, O Soul Set Free From Bondage Of The Night.