Great Garrick, accustomed, in tragical fury,
To stand unabashed in the regions of Drury,
Yet, awed and alarmed, felt his valour to fall
When brought as a witness to Westminster Hall.
So I, though accustomed in Drury to play,
My confidence find before you die away.
Yet, like a good wife, when requested, I come
Nor venture to speak till my husband is dumb.
The needle, by impulse magnetic drawn forth,
In every region still points to the north;
Though bound to this law with unvaried devotion,
It wavers and turns with a tremulous motion.
Even thus, though on wings of delight I pursue
My tour to the north, to meet friends such as you,
I waver, and tremble my task to fulfil,
And dread that the deed may not equal the will.
My duties are small, I can soon tell their meanings, —
I'm merely Queen Consort — my Lord's locum tenens .
A volunteer sentry, I follow the track,
And only mount guard till my husband comes back.
My province to-night (it will not keep you long)
Is an Olla Podrida of music and song —
Mere bagatelle sounds, to make time travel faster,
And lighten the load of my great lord and master.
Already I feel so much kindness is here,
My opening fears by degrees disappear;
And as the young barrister, new to the station,
Grows bold at the close of his maiden oration,
And dashes away with a loftier scope —
" My Lud, and your Ludship, " in figure and trope —
With added assurance my task I pursue,
In hopes of a verdict from candour and you.