A Metrical History of England Or, Recollections, in Rhyme, Of some of the most prominent Features in our National Chronology, from the Landing of Julius Caesar to the Commencement of the Regency, in 1812. In Two Volumes ... By Thomas Dibdin |
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A Metrical History of England | ||
THE VICTIMS,
A PARODY.
While yet on fostering breast he hung,
His mind being, like his body, made ill,
The vices throng'd around his cradle;
Exulting, sneering, grinning, fighting,
They set his early teeth a biting;
To roar and cry for every thing;
Once, while he slept and all were fired,
Fill'd with fury, rapt, inspir'd
From scenes of the succeeding age,
Each fiend prophetic snatch'd a page;
And, as they oft had shewn apart,
Dark lessons of their forceful art,
Each borrow'd from the future hour,
Some victim of the tyrant's power;
And mutually agreed to pry
Into their darlings destiny.
(Near him a Malmsey butt they laid),
Who back recoil'd, he knew not why,
Even at the choice himself had made.
With just reproof the tyrant stings,
One savage blow speaks Richard's ire,
And the youth soars on seraph wings.
King Henry mourns his hopes beguil'd,
'Till Glo'ster's dagger ends his care,
And sends the father to his child.
What was thy delusive measure?
Still it whisper'd royal pleasure
To Edward's son, and promis'd thrones and pow'r.
While their fell uncle in the Tower,
Thought fit to echo the deceitful song,
And where of loyalty the theme she chose,
His hypocritic voice was heard at ev'ry close;
And York and Edward fell into the snare.
The Duke impatient rose,
He threw his artful mask in fury down,
And with a withering look,
Of Hastings, Rivers, Vaughan, and Grey he took
A deed so horrible and dread—
Ne'er were half-stifled shrieks so full of woe,
As when the fell assassins press'd
Against each struggling infant's breast;
And tho' some time each dreary pause between,
Dejected pity at their side,
Her soul subduing voice applied:
Still on the couch of innocence they lean,
'Till each strain'd ball of sight announce the victims dead!
The crown on Richard, mourns his fallen state;
His cup of death ungrateful Gloster mix'd,
And one he cherish'd sells him to his fate.
The Wife of Richard sat retired;
In notes by sorrow render'd sweet,
Pour'd to Prince Edward's shade her plaintive soul;
And deeply grieves that e'er she found,
Like Eve, the soft beguiling sound
Of the keen serpent's voice, which gently stole
Within her heart, her duty to betray;
When after once or twice refusing,
Oh, woman's weakness! past excusing,
She on the Crook-back threw herself away!
When Harry Richmond, arm'd with title true,
His Baldrick 'cross his shoulder flung,
And, with enliv'ning trumpet, blew
A call to arms that thro' the island rung!
His claim announcing to the English throne.
With age so gay, and youth so green,
To join his standard soon were seen;
And Rice ap Thomas seized his Cambrian spear.
Richard for his crown advancing;
First to the soldiery some words address,
But soon he saw brave Henry defy all,
(And fighting, far than talking he lov'd best).
They might have thought, who heard the fray,
That in dark Pandæmonium's shade,
All Milton's dæmon's were array'd;
Such clang of arms, and coursers prancing.
While, as on sounding shield the faulchion rings,
Death, in his ebon car, drove fiercely round;
And Richard's corse among the slain was found!
And Henry on that well fought day,
His worth and valour to repay,
Received a crown upborne on Vict'ry's wings.
And begg'd, not relishing the joke,
His tutors would so civil be,
As alter the catastrophe.
Must surely happen, soon or late;
And what, as fiction has been stated,
All came to pass, as we've related.
George, Duke of Clarence, it is said, having been offered a choice as to the mode of his death, was by such melancholy election drowned in a butt of malmsey wine.
Hastings, beheaded in the Tower for his attachment to the rights of the royal children; and the other three, their near relations, put to death at Pomfret.
The Duke of Buckingham having levied a force against Richard, for evading certain promises made before he obtained the crown, was deserted by his army, and delivered to his enemy by the treachery of Ban ster, a confidential servant, who had been greatly obliged by the Duke.
Ann, the Widow of Edward, Son of Henry VI. who unaccountably married her husband's murderer, by whom, it is supposed, her own death was hastened.
A Welch Chief, of great influence, who was one of the first to join Henry when he landed at Milford.
Richard's body, after being exposed, was buried in the church of the Grey Friars, in Leicester. Henry VII. bestowed a monument on it, which was demolished at the dissolution of Abbies, under Henry VIII; and the monarch's stone coffin actually served for a horse-trough, at the White Horse Inn: Sic transit gloria mundi!
A Metrical History of England | ||