Heavy is the head
And strong the heart
Of she who wears the crown.
Lady, lioness
Our Queen
The young girl at the microphone
Whose father braved his stammer
And the bombs at Buckingham
You took up the mantle
Dappled and worn
Of confessors and crusaders,
And made it your own
With gravitas and grace.
From Empire to Commonwealth,
You bend but do not break
As you span the old and new,
Like eternity’s sea.
We have watched you,
The Maiden, Mother, Crone,
The gold thread of your life
Woven into ours.
You are continuity in chaos,
The eye of the storm,
The Lady Britannia,
With crosses on her shield.
You embody this sceptered isle
For the people to see.
They slam doors in your messenger’s face,
But later they will sing your name.
Oh, tension of a thousand tales
That shows the land her soul!
You bridge the human and divine,
A steward with a sacred trust
Who stands in Adam’s stead,
The first anointed king.
A sacrament of duty,
This weight of glory,
Borne up in a fallen world
With taproots to Eden.
Our Queen,
Mother, Prince, and Friend
Whose face was printed on the coins
I wished not to return,
God keep you,
God love you,
God save you!
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