 | Verses of a life time |  |
32
THE MONARCH AT PRAYER.
Proud Windsor's towers lay bathed in light,
And Nature look'd and smil'd
On that rich work of human art,
As on her own fair child.
And Nature look'd and smil'd
On that rich work of human art,
As on her own fair child.
The birds sent up their piping notes,
Or cut the yielding sky;
The garden'd plains and wooded hills
Look'd gladsome to the eye.
Or cut the yielding sky;
The garden'd plains and wooded hills
Look'd gladsome to the eye.
But sorrow deep and darkly fell
Beneath those lordly walls,
And wailings hush'd, but sorrowful,
Were whisper'd through the halls.
Beneath those lordly walls,
And wailings hush'd, but sorrowful,
Were whisper'd through the halls.
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Ah, what avails it, that yon couch
And canopy are hung,
With trappings of more brilliant hue,
Than ancient poets sung?
And canopy are hung,
With trappings of more brilliant hue,
Than ancient poets sung?
She cares not for exotic flowers,
Nor fruits that clustering swell,
Nor all the pomp and gorgeousness
That luxury scarce may tell.
Nor fruits that clustering swell,
Nor all the pomp and gorgeousness
That luxury scarce may tell.
Forbear to tempt her faded lip,
With costly viands now;
Forbear to place the scented wreath,
Above that marble brow.
With costly viands now;
Forbear to place the scented wreath,
Above that marble brow.
Ye need not tread with feathery step,
Her velvet cover'd floor;
Nor guard with silent sentinels,
The nicely balanc'd door:
Her velvet cover'd floor;
Nor guard with silent sentinels,
The nicely balanc'd door:
She heeds not now the sounds of earth,
More than the autumn flower
Heeds the wild winds, that pass, and strew
Its leaves within her bower.
More than the autumn flower
Heeds the wild winds, that pass, and strew
Its leaves within her bower.
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Yet hush—tread light—a sound goes up,
And o'er the heart-pulse rings!
A Monarch by his dying child
Prays to the King of Kings.
And o'er the heart-pulse rings!
A Monarch by his dying child
Prays to the King of Kings.
It is a sight most beautiful
For earthly pride, to see
The faith that lights her dying brow,
And shines so gloriously.
For earthly pride, to see
The faith that lights her dying brow,
And shines so gloriously.
The Monarch clasps her blue-vein'd hands,
With gentle pressure given;
His filling eyes are fixed on hers,
And hers are rais'd to Heaven.
With gentle pressure given;
His filling eyes are fixed on hers,
And hers are rais'd to Heaven.
Seek thou the Sovereign on his throne,
The Conqueror in his power,
The Statesman, organ of a world,
In his successful hour;
The Conqueror in his power,
The Statesman, organ of a world,
In his successful hour;
But cold, O! cold the picture seems,
Of light and grace beguil'd,
When on the Monarch's form I gaze,
Kneeling beside his child.
Of light and grace beguil'd,
When on the Monarch's form I gaze,
Kneeling beside his child.
1834.
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