Volume 2 — FRONTISPIECE TO VOLUME II, HONORING LISZT
Constance Bache translation
I.
We welcome thee, from southern sunnier clime, To England's shore, And stretch glad hands across the lapse of time To the once more.
II.
Full twice two decades swiftly have rolled by Since thou wast here; A meteor flashing through our northern sky Thou didst appear.
III.
Thy coming now we greet with pleasure keen, And loyal heart, Adding tradition of what thou hast been To what thou art.
IV.
No laurel can we weave into the crown Long years entwine, Nor add one honour into the renown Already thine:
V.
Yet might these roses waft to thee a breath Of memory, Recalling thy fair Saint Elizabeth Of Hungary
VI.
We welcome her, from out those days of old, In song divine, But thee we greet a thousand fold, The song is thine!
—C.B.
[Presumably written by Constance Bache, this trite paean would likely not have appealed to Liszt, who repeatedly affirmed his humility.]