Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems By the Lady E. Stuart Wortley. In Three Vols |
 | I, II, III. |
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FAILURES AND DISAPPOINTMENTS. |
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 | Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems |  |
FAILURES AND DISAPPOINTMENTS.
Many a tired tired bird hath dropped and diedBeneath the wrath of that fierce Storm, which tried
Its frail strength to the utmost, long before
It gained its nest's dear shelter, covered o'er
With skreening boughs in some calm covert deep,
Where storms were lulled, like charmed things, to sleep,
And on the cold ground sunk to breathless rest,
Far from the happy shelter of that nest.
Many a Pilgrim hath sunk down before
He hailed the Shrine, at which he hoped to pour
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A meed for all the sufferings of long years.
Many a flower hath been o'erborne by Death,
Ere yet the breeze grew fragrant with its breath—
Ere yet to full blown pride it had attained,
And in the brightness of its beauty reigned.
Many a precious gem too hath been lost,
Ere in the sumptuous chain of mighty cost,
Or in the glorious crown 'twas proudly set,
Where other gems in rainbowed splendour met—
Many a rill, in Summer's sultry hour
Of wasting influence, and of scorching power,
Hath been dried up upon its murmuring way
To those fair sister-streams that warbling stray—
Along their smiling course, as glad as fair,
Though that may perish in the parching glare!
And many a heart hath been with anguish torn,
And darkly bruised—and with sharp sufferings worn,
And crushed and broken long before its time,
And chilled and withered in the unkindliest clime,
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Poor mournful heart! that sighest “Woe is me!”
Aye! many a Heart before its meed was one,
Hath ruined been, and blighted and undone,
Before its rest—before its goal was gained,
In every pulse with every torture pained!
Then what of thee!—Ah! answer—what of thee?
Poor trembling Heart, that sighest “Woe is me!”
| Queen Berengaria's Courtesy, and Other Poems | |