The visions of England Lyrics on leading men and events in English history by Francis T. Palgrave |
THE CHILDLESS MOTHER
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The visions of England | ||
THE CHILDLESS MOTHER
1700–1702
Ghostly by my bed
Stands a Father's image,
Pale discrownéd head:—
—I forsook thee, Father!
Was no child to thee!
Child-forsaken Mother,
Now 'tis so with me.
Baby born to woe,
Crouching by the church-wall
From the bloodhound-foe.
Evil crown'd of evil,
Heritage of strife!
Mine, an heirless sceptre:
His, an exile life!
From the cradle torn!
Dewdrop lives, that never
Saw their second morn!
Buds that fell untimely,—
Till one blossom
The Duke of Gloucester, who grew up to eleven years, dying in July 1700. After his death Anne signed, in private letters, ‘your unfortunate’ friend.
Anne's character, says the candid Lecky, ‘though somewhat peevish and very obstinate, was pure, generous, simple, and affectionate; and she displayed, under bereavements far more numerous than fall to the share of most, a touching piety that endeared her to her people.’
As I watch'd its beauty,
Fading whilst it blew.
More than words can tell:
All my remnant sunshine
Died in one farewell.
Midnight-mirk before me
Now my life goes by,
As in vain I cry.
On the nursery floor!
Lispings light and laughter
I shall hear no more!
Eyes that gleam'd at waking
Through their silken bars;
Starlike eyes of children,
Now beyond the stars!
‘Above and around, in every direction,’ says Dean Stanley, describing the vault beneath the monument of Mary of Scotland in Henry the Seventh's Chapel,—‘crushing by the accumulated weight of their small coffins the receptacles of the illustrious dust beneath, lie the eighteen children of Queen Anne, dying in infancy or stillborn, ending with William Duke of Gloucester, the last hope of the race:’ (Historical Memorials of Westminster Abbey, ch. iii).
Waits the rising sign,
They are laid in darkness,
Little lambs of mine.
Only this can comfort:
Safe from earthly harms
Christ the Saviour holds them
In His loving arms:—
Roses ever fair:—
Will His mercy set them
All beside me there?
Will their Angels guide me
Through the golden gate?
—Wait a little, children!
Mother, too, must wait!
The visions of England | ||