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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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120

“How he solicits Heaven
“Himself best knows, but strangely visited people,
“The mere despair of surgery, he cures,
“Hanging a golden stamp about their necks,
“Put on with holy pray'rs:—With this strange virtue,
“He hath a heavenly gift of prophecy;
“And sundry blessings hang about his throne
“That speak him full of grace.”
Shakespeare.

EDWARD THE CONFESSOR.

Whether King Edward own'd the powers
Our Bard immortal speaks of, is not our's
To canvass.—'Tis our province to set down
Sans comment, what, it was supposed the Crown
Did, or had pow'r to do.—Of Danegelt eas'd,
The subjects with the sovereign were pleas'd;
And gave him equally deserv'd applause,
For well digested and impartial laws.
What sad procession meets the eye?
Why trickles that reluctant tear
From chiefs who pass in order by,
What sounds of woe salute the ear?

121

The solemn Pibrochs mournful tone
Which marks the step of yonder band
Proclaim that Scotia's legal throne
Is stain'd by an usurper's hand.
And Edward lends his ready aid,
And Siward leads a valiant train;
Who, by the tyrant undismay'd,
Replace the son of Duncan slain.
The swan of Avon knew full well
To touch each chord that thrills the heart;
Then let his magic numbers tell
Of murd'rous guile and fiend-like art.
The blasted heath, the wizard crew,
The “unsex'd” wife of Glamis' Thane,
Whose trait'rous hand his master slew,
And earn'd a transitory reign.
Whate'er his skill, who says or sings,
This moral he can only shew,
That crowns are but uncertain things,
And, (or in Subjects, or in Kings,)
Error must surely end in woe.

122

For proofs that mortal saints are sometimes weak,
With little trouble, in this reign, we seek;
His breast was coldly fraught with filial love,
Who cou'd, remorseless, cause his mother prove
The fire ordeal. Next, for having wed
A child of one he had good cause to dread;
The coward Prince revenged upon the dame
That hate he dared not for her sire proclaim.
Godwin, ambition's child, the scourge we're told
Of worthier men, “saucy and over bold”
In state affairs.—Revengeful, cruel, proud,
When least he deem'd—to fate's stern summons bow'd.
'Tis said denial of Prince Alfred's death
By his connivance, stopt the murd'rer's breath.
'Twas Edward's wish, when dying, to resign
The regal chair to Norman William's line;
But, while deliberation held the beam,
The king of terrors closed each worldly dream;
Harold, Earl Godwin's son, assumed the sway,
With what success a future page must say.
 

Legends report that Godwin was supernaturally suffocated, immediately subsequent to a solemn declaration of his innocence respecting the Prince's murder.