The Widow's Tale and other Poems. By the Author of Ellen Fitzarthur [i.e. by C. A. Bowles] |
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STANZAS
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 | The Widow's Tale |  |
125
STANZAS
WRITTEN ON THE DAY SUCCEEDING THAT OF THE PRINCESS CHARLOTTE'S DEATH.
Mild, cheerful, gradual, hoary winter's sway
Comes on divested of its wonted gloom:
A darker pall descends on England's day—
The night of death—the winter of the tomb—
Comes on divested of its wonted gloom:
A darker pall descends on England's day—
The night of death—the winter of the tomb—
The fairest flower of England's royal line,
Untimely blasted, withers on its stem:
And mingled boughs of dark-leaved cypress twine
Their fun'ral wreath, with England's diadem.
Untimely blasted, withers on its stem:
And mingled boughs of dark-leaved cypress twine
Their fun'ral wreath, with England's diadem.
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Mourn, isles of Britain! empress of the wave,
In dust and ashes, veil thy prostrate head:
Where are thy budding hopes? To the dark grave
Consigned, the narrow chambers of the dead.
In dust and ashes, veil thy prostrate head:
Where are thy budding hopes? To the dark grave
Consigned, the narrow chambers of the dead.
In vain, proud city! through your countless ways
Unnumbered hands the feast of lights prepare:
Lo! for your choral songs, and festive blaze,
The death-bell tolls, and fun'ral torches glare.
Unnumbered hands the feast of lights prepare:
Lo! for your choral songs, and festive blaze,
The death-bell tolls, and fun'ral torches glare.
Oh, bower of Claremont! in your princely halls,
The halcyon dream of youthful love is o'er;
For ever silent—through your echoing walls
The voice of gladness shall resound no more.
The halcyon dream of youthful love is o'er;
For ever silent—through your echoing walls
The voice of gladness shall resound no more.
Within those walls, where all the smiling train
Of calm domestic bliss so late hath been;
What gloomy shades of desolation reign!
What awful contrast marks the solemn scene!
Of calm domestic bliss so late hath been;
What gloomy shades of desolation reign!
What awful contrast marks the solemn scene!
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For buoyant hopes—the silence of despair—
Sad, weeping mourners for th' expecting crowd;
A lifeless infant for the promised heir—
For jewelled robes—the coffin and the shroud.
Sad, weeping mourners for th' expecting crowd;
A lifeless infant for the promised heir—
For jewelled robes—the coffin and the shroud.
Pale, cold, and silent, on that narrow bier
She lies, so late in health and beauty's glow—
Dear to all hearts—to one, alas! how dear,
What words can tell? Oh, God! assuage his woe.
She lies, so late in health and beauty's glow—
Dear to all hearts—to one, alas! how dear,
What words can tell? Oh, God! assuage his woe.
Approach, unthinking youth! this awful scene
Shall wean thy heart from earth and earthly trust:
Shall eloquently teach, how frail and mean
Are man's designs—himself an heap of dust.
Shall wean thy heart from earth and earthly trust:
Shall eloquently teach, how frail and mean
Are man's designs—himself an heap of dust.
How unavailing, youth, and pomp, and power,
From death's insatiate grasp his prey to save:
How powerless to protract, for one short hour,
The mortal stroke, the triumph of the grave.
From death's insatiate grasp his prey to save:
How powerless to protract, for one short hour,
The mortal stroke, the triumph of the grave.
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Nor these alone—for here the lovelier plea
Of piety and innocence was vain—
It was the Lord's inscrutable degree,
And where's the arm, that may His arm restrain?
Of piety and innocence was vain—
It was the Lord's inscrutable degree,
And where's the arm, that may His arm restrain?
Yea, 'twas His will, that she whose early fate
From ev'ry eye draws tender sorrows down,
Should for immortal, change her mortal state,
An earthly sceptre, for a heav'nly crown.
From ev'ry eye draws tender sorrows down,
Should for immortal, change her mortal state,
An earthly sceptre, for a heav'nly crown.
| The Widow's Tale | |