Classic Poem

He comes, he comes, our sacred King,
Now bids the town adieu;
And all the bells at Richmond ring,
To welcome him to Kew.

The air serene, the ev'ning clear,
The moon so fair to view;
Sweet emblem of our gracious Queen,
That came to day to Kew.

Now softly blows the western gale,
To wast the joyful strains,
Along the lowly winding vale,
And tell the distant plains.

In Spring's fresh robes the trees are clad,
The fields are fair to view;
And every loyal heart is glad
The King is come to Kew.

Ye lovers of inconstancy,
Now blush and take a view;
A bright example you may see,
The royal pair at Kew.

May God continue still to give
Them pleasures ever new;
And many summers may they live
To reign and visit Kew.