In the tapestry of dawn, the year 1901 unfolds,

A chapter new, as the sun its story molds.

**Queen Victoria's departure, a requiem for an era,**

The mourning echoes, a nation in somber chimera.
Her scepter laid to rest, a silent coronation of air,
A throne relinquished, leaving memories to bear.

As the clock struck midnight, a century's rebirth,

A world stood poised on the edge of its hearth.
In the whispers of time, a new symphony played,
1901, an overture to dreams arrayed.

On continents vast, where empires aspire,

The echoes of change lit the world afire.
In the corridors of power, a shifting ballet,
Diplomacy danced in the grand array.

Amidst the political dance, a Nobel glow,

A prize born from the heart, an aspiration to show.
Peace's laurels awarded to those who dared,
To dream of a world where swords were spared.

In the avenues of science, a radio wave's embrace,

Marconi's invention, connecting space to space.
A whisper of signals through the ether's sea,
The world, a stage for technology's decree.

On literary heights, Edith Wharton's quill,

Wove tales of society, a nuanced skill.
"The Age of Innocence," a novel's art,
A canvas painted with matters of the heart.

In the 1901 tapestry, a year unfurls,

A portrait of change in various swirls.
Emotions linger in the threads of the tale,
As history's pen writes on, without fail.