It was the chance of the writer of these lines upon one occasion to
behold his sovereign under circumstances which he esteems singularly
fortunate. She was taking rapid exercise with the prince upon the
south side of the garden-terrace. All at once the royal pair paused at
the summit of the ascent leading from George the Fourth's gateway.
The prince disappeared along the eastern terrace, leaving the queen
alone. And there she stood, her slight, faultless figure sharply defined
against the clear sky. Nothing was wanting to complete the picture:
the great bay-windows of the Victoria Tower on the one hand--the
balustrade of the terrace on the other--the home park beyond. It was
thrilling to feel that that small, solitary figure comprehended all the
might and majesty of England--and a thousand kindling aspirations
were awakened by the thought.
But it was, as has been said, the merry month of June, and Windsor
Castle looked down in all its magnificence upon the pomp of woods,
and upon the twelve fair and smiling counties lying within its ken. A
joyous stir was within its courts--the gleam of arms and the fluttering of
banners was seen upon its battlements and towers, and the ringing of
bells, the beating of drums, and the fanfares of trumpets, mingled with
the shouting of crowds and the discharge of ordnance.
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