Effusions of Love from Chatelar to Mary, Queen of Scotland Translated from a Gallic Manuscript, in the Scotch College at Paris. Interspersed with songs, sonnets, and notes explanatory, by the translator [i.e. S. W. H. Ireland]. To which is added, historical fragments, poetry, and remains of the amours, of that unfortunate Princess |
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 | Effusions of Love from Chatelar to Mary, Queen of Scotland |  |
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TO THE DART OF DEATH.
How oft hath Mars his blood-stain'd weapon rear'd
While calmly smiling I have said—
O! strike, and number with the dead,
This breaking heart, by love's hot arrow sear'd.
While calmly smiling I have said—
O! strike, and number with the dead,
This breaking heart, by love's hot arrow sear'd.
In vain I proffer'd thus my bleeding soul;
My bosom's flame too ardent burn'd,
From ice to fire the steel was turn'd,
And hungry death had lost his dire control.
My bosom's flame too ardent burn'd,
From ice to fire the steel was turn'd,
And hungry death had lost his dire control.
If thus the shaft neglectful turns away,
How can my fetter'd soul expire?
Save in the blaze of that bright fire,
Which beams, O goddess! from thy heav'nly eye.
How can my fetter'd soul expire?
Save in the blaze of that bright fire,
Which beams, O goddess! from thy heav'nly eye.
Since then thy dart, grim death, I soar above,
My eyes her eyes shall meet, then die with love.
My eyes her eyes shall meet, then die with love.
| Effusions of Love from Chatelar to Mary, Queen of Scotland | |