[John Whitworth]

Competition: Jubilee lines

LUCY VICKERY
SATURDAY, 2ND JUNE 2012

In Competition No. 2749 you were invited to submit a poem, written by a poet laureate from the past, to mark the Queen’s Diamond Jubilee. Thirteen out of the 19 former laureates featured in the entry. Unsurprisingly, the most popular were Betjeman and Tennyson, with Wordsworth and Hughes coming a close second. Alfred Austin and Colley Cibber, poorly rated and oft-mocked, spawned a handful of strong submissions. I liked George Simmers’s twist on Southey’s ‘After Blenheim’; equally impressive were Ann Alexander, Brian Murdoch and W.J. Webster, all of whom captured well the voice of Ted Hughes.
The winners, printed below, get £25 each. The bonus fiver goes to Mary Holtby as John Dryden, the only holder of the office of laureate to be sacked.

In Ancient Times, when Shakespeare stalked the Stage,
The First Elizabeth defin’d the Age
And History, unfolding Scene by Scene,
Reflects the glory of the Virgin Queen;
Alike in Warfare and the Liberal Arts,
She reign’d supreme, and rul’d her People’s Hearts.
From Heav’n with what Delight — I dare to claim
She views the Heiress of her Noble Name.
‘Auspicious day that brought thee to the Throne!’
She cries, ‘With Gifts as various as mine own;
As brightly Jewell’d for th’assembled Lords
— So far as Modern Penury affords —
As bravely Hors’d, with Eloquence as rare,
Not dissipated, but preserv’d on Air.
Live long, more blest than I with double Grace,
Of Children first, then Mother of thy Race.
Mary Holtby/John Dryden

Oh wondrous Elizabeth, heir of George Rex,
Who lightened and brightened Britannia’s decks
Now sadly abandoned and moored in despair
On the banks of the Clyde at the bidding of Blair.
Oh wondrous Elizabeth, heir of George Rex,
Whose forbear, Queen Bess, would have severed our necks,
We laud and applaud thee for Aldershot sun
That continues to burnish Miss J. Hunter Dunn.
With buns and with bunting and beacons ablaze
In joyful subjection our glasses we raise
To your wisdom and will which, for sixty years now,
Has graced us and placed us in rank above Slough.
Our taxes we tender with fabulous cheques
To pay for your upkeep, oh heir of George Rex,
And weak at the knees with a surfeit of cheer
We bow to you now in your Jubilee year.
Alan Millard/John Betjeman

Strong daughter of a much loved King
(And niece of one on whom we need
Not dwell), thou duty’s call didst heed.
Thy reign hath been a faithful thing.

Thine are the progeny Fleet Street
Hath seized on as a hearty meal.
They feel the things all mortals feel,
And have not always been discreet.

But thou above, apart dost stand,
Embodying a Royal code
To which all throats now raise an ode
From every hamlet in this land.

Let every gimcrack souvenir
That boasts not an Olympics theme
(If of such gear we dare to dream)
Proclaim thy subjects love thee dear.
Chris O’Carroll/Tennyson

Hail! Gloriana Number Two,
The Empire’s Number One:
Full threescore years we’ve cherished you;
Our hearts, in sooth, you won.

’Tis no effete indulgence, ma’am
To eulogise you thus;
You radiate effulgence, ma’am,
Upon your populus.

You are the people’s paradigm,
A lamp to light our way;
O’er land, and waters maritime
You reign with boundless sway.

Bootless it were to dig and delve,
Missell the mystery:
Majesty, savour twenty-twelve,
Your Diamond Jubilee.
Mike Morrison/Colley Cibber

Ye Diamonds who surmount the Crown,
Ye sturdy Gems who light the Royal Gown,
On this year of Triumph spread
A lustrous Halo round the Head

Of She whose pure Propinquity
Brings Comfort to this Jubilee;
All hail to He who kept Her
That blessed be ELIZABETH, Her Orb, Her Sceptre.

And in Britannia’s Firmament
Shine bright as Stars to mark this Great Event:
Oh be as Jewels, thy Lustre and thy perfect Spark
Illumine we who from the Dark

Were haply brought to Safety’s Shore,
T’obey Her grand ancestral Law;
Oh incandesce on Her, Serene,
That crystal Constellations deck our Blissful QUEEN.
Bill Greenwell/Nicholas Rowe’s Ode for the Year MMXII

Full sixty years the British crown she’s worn,
Her birthright of resplendent monarchy,
And though our Empire’s shrunk beyond the sea
And city streets are bankrupt and forlorn
Yet is she cherished. Ceremony is shorn
But still when grandeur’s called for by the State
She sallies forth, majestic, consummate
Defender of the Faith, and royal born.
And what if sixty years see glories fade,
False glitter tarnish, deference decay?
She is true metal, earns the tributes paid
To priceless worth as loyal public pray
Her sun shines on, in cloudless days displayed.
Her Diamond years can never pass away.
D.A. Prince/Wordsworth