Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric by the Revd. H. Boyd ... containing the following dramatic poems: The Helots, a tragedy, The Temple of Vesta, The Rivals, The Royal Message. Prize Poems, &c. &c |
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THE GENIUS OF THE WHITE ROSE,
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 | Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric |  |
457
THE GENIUS OF THE WHITE ROSE,
THE PRIZE POEM FOR THE YEAR ONE THOUSAND SEVEN HUNDRED AND SEVENTY-SIX.
458
[_]
The subject of this piece is the resignation of Richard Duke of York, to his uncle the Duke of Glo'ster, by his mother. It opens with a soliloquy of the Genius of the York family, on the morning of Edward the Fifth's supposed coronation.
459
“On this glad scene what mortal change impends?
Why mourns the pomp along the public way?
What fun'ral gloom its baleful shadow sends
To blast the hopes of this distinguish'd day?
Why mourns the pomp along the public way?
What fun'ral gloom its baleful shadow sends
To blast the hopes of this distinguish'd day?
“And see! amid yon venerable train,
Rank after rank, that form the moving state,
Two spectres dim the herald's garb profane,
And marshal Edward to the field of fate!
Rank after rank, that form the moving state,
Two spectres dim the herald's garb profane,
And marshal Edward to the field of fate!
“Half sunk, and deadly pale, the royal boy,
The sick plume trembling o'er his faded brow,
Seems to recoil from the tumultuous joy,
And mourns the boon the wayward fates bestow.
The sick plume trembling o'er his faded brow,
Seems to recoil from the tumultuous joy,
And mourns the boon the wayward fates bestow.
460
“The fraudful pomp the stern Vicegerent leads,
Cov'ring his deep deceit in fair disguise;
And tho' the sov'reign call of nature pleads,
The cruel victor scorns her potent voice.”
Cov'ring his deep deceit in fair disguise;
And tho' the sov'reign call of nature pleads,
The cruel victor scorns her potent voice.”
“May not a solitary life suffice?
Still further shall the waste of carnage spread!
And must the sovereign stem be wounded twice,
And twice the royal blood by ruffians shed?”
Still further shall the waste of carnage spread!
And must the sovereign stem be wounded twice,
And twice the royal blood by ruffians shed?”
“It must—for lo! another hand unseen,
With veil funereal shrowds the awful dome,
Where, with her younger hope, the widow'd queen
Claims the protection of a sacred home.”
With veil funereal shrowds the awful dome,
Where, with her younger hope, the widow'd queen
Claims the protection of a sacred home.”
“Less doubtful still and deadlier signs ensue:
Lo! severing in the midst, the cloudy veil
Leaves to the sun, in broad portentous view,
A window, fraught with that disast'rous tale:”
Lo! severing in the midst, the cloudy veil
Leaves to the sun, in broad portentous view,
A window, fraught with that disast'rous tale:”
“How jealous Ire in infant blood was dy'd,
And all the Jewish tyrant's fruitless rage;
When, waging war with Heaven, he vainly try'd
To quell the glory of the rising age.”
And all the Jewish tyrant's fruitless rage;
When, waging war with Heaven, he vainly try'd
To quell the glory of the rising age.”
“The holy infant soon a refuge found;
Soon was his mighty father's arm display'd:
But thee, fair branch of Edward's stem renown'd,
Ev'n in those sacred walls shall fate invade!”
Soon was his mighty father's arm display'd:
461
Ev'n in those sacred walls shall fate invade!”
“And see! Heav'n's omens aid the sign beneath!
See! beaming on the twins an influence dire!
The warrior planet looks debate and death,
And wayward Saturn joins his sullen fire!
See! beaming on the twins an influence dire!
The warrior planet looks debate and death,
And wayward Saturn joins his sullen fire!
“'Tis done—my charge for ever I resign!—
But what avails the various fields of blood?
The many triumphs of the mighty line?
The combinations by their arms withstood?
But what avails the various fields of blood?
The many triumphs of the mighty line?
The combinations by their arms withstood?
“Ah! race renown'd in vain! in vain elate
With many a trophy won by matchless might!
If by thine own fell hand, the pow'r of fate
Sinks thy proud glories in eternal night!”
With many a trophy won by matchless might!
If by thine own fell hand, the pow'r of fate
Sinks thy proud glories in eternal night!”
Thus mourn'd the Genius of the Paler Rose,
As hov'ring o'er the pompous, deep array,
He saw young Edward, by his deadly foes,
Led to his fate, a dumb defenceless prey.
As hov'ring o'er the pompous, deep array,
He saw young Edward, by his deadly foes,
Led to his fate, a dumb defenceless prey.
Sorrowing, he saw his tender pupillage
Their blooming hopes to early fate resign:
When, his fast-rising anguish to assuage,
Appear'd the genius of th'ascending line.
Their blooming hopes to early fate resign:
When, his fast-rising anguish to assuage,
Appear'd the genius of th'ascending line.
“Behold me sent,” he said, “to clear away
The ominous night that clouds thy hopes and thee:
And end the feuds of many a bloody day,
When civil discord rag'd from sea to sea.
The ominous night that clouds thy hopes and thee:
And end the feuds of many a bloody day,
When civil discord rag'd from sea to sea.
462
“Mourn not the royal boy's untimely doom;
But hear the dread designs of sovereign fate;
Who, provident of ages yet to come,
Ends the mad tumults of the guilty great.
But hear the dread designs of sovereign fate;
Who, provident of ages yet to come,
Ends the mad tumults of the guilty great.
“The blooming males of Edward's regal brood,
Each in his turn to destiny shall yield;
That Mars no more may keep the isle in blood,
Nor Discord wave her flag in ev'ry field.
Each in his turn to destiny shall yield;
That Mars no more may keep the isle in blood,
Nor Discord wave her flag in ev'ry field.
“Long by her cruel uncle woo'd in vain,
The virgin heiress of the royal line;
Shall see young Richmond cross the Gallic main,
And on one stem the mingled roses join.
The virgin heiress of the royal line;
Shall see young Richmond cross the Gallic main,
And on one stem the mingled roses join.
“See! where on Bosworth's plain the victor tow'rs;
The battle swerves beneath his proud controul:
And see! th'usurper hem'd by hostile pow'rs:
How he breathes out his fell, indignant soul!
The battle swerves beneath his proud controul:
And see! th'usurper hem'd by hostile pow'rs:
How he breathes out his fell, indignant soul!
“Nor thou, intent on partial views, repine
The triumphs of a rival to survey
See! where in one their mingled glories join,
And golden years succeed the dreadful day?
The triumphs of a rival to survey
See! where in one their mingled glories join,
And golden years succeed the dreadful day?
“Mean while, obedient to the stern commands
Of fate, I go to claim the younger born
Of Edward, from his weeping mother's hands,
The widow'd Queen, of ev'ry hope forlorn!
Of fate, I go to claim the younger born
Of Edward, from his weeping mother's hands,
The widow'd Queen, of ev'ry hope forlorn!
463
“With bloody meaning to invade those bounds,
Where hov'ring angels tremble as they gaze,
Me, tho' no mortal born, with pity wounds,
And the firm purpose of my soul betrays.”
Where hov'ring angels tremble as they gaze,
Me, tho' no mortal born, with pity wounds,
And the firm purpose of my soul betrays.”
This said, in semblance of a prelate hoar,
The great upholder of the Cestrian state,
Approach'd, with fatal speed, the sacred door,
And enter'd, where the royal mother sate.
The great upholder of the Cestrian state,
Approach'd, with fatal speed, the sacred door,
And enter'd, where the royal mother sate.
With reverence meek, began the seeming saint
“Hail! royal mother of a mighty line,
So may kind Heav'n your last petition grant,
As you with gentle heart accord to mine!”
“Hail! royal mother of a mighty line,
So may kind Heav'n your last petition grant,
As you with gentle heart accord to mine!”
“By me Heav'n claims the royal, guiltless child,
Souls pure as his no low asylum need:
Meet are those walls to screen the blood-defil'd,
Not him who never knew unholy deed.”
Souls pure as his no low asylum need:
Meet are those walls to screen the blood-defil'd,
Not him who never knew unholy deed.”
“Here, brooding over his eternal wounds,
Let the sad felon his lone hours employ;
But never be it said, those hallow'd bounds
From fancy'd evil screen'd a blameless boy.
Let the sad felon his lone hours employ;
But never be it said, those hallow'd bounds
From fancy'd evil screen'd a blameless boy.
“Shall every fear of wayward fancy's brood
Give to this mansion a desponding guest?
Shall sacrilegious passions here intrude,
And break upon the temple's holy rest?
Give to this mansion a desponding guest?
Shall sacrilegious passions here intrude,
And break upon the temple's holy rest?
464
“Shall guilt and innocence promiscuous here
Find an asylum? Hence the thought profane!
Shall each alike the garb of penance wear,
And pious fraud the holy presence stain;
Find an asylum? Hence the thought profane!
Shall each alike the garb of penance wear,
And pious fraud the holy presence stain;
“Here let remorse and sorrow wake to weep,
And purge their stains with penitential tears;
But let not hate her sullen sabbath keep;
Nor squint suspicion tell her fancy'd fears!”
And purge their stains with penitential tears;
But let not hate her sullen sabbath keep;
Nor squint suspicion tell her fancy'd fears!”
“Ask him who sent thee if my fears be true,
(With royal scorn the lonely Queen reply'd);
Ask him who Pomfret's deadly secret knew,
Why her sad streets with noble blood were dy'd?
(With royal scorn the lonely Queen reply'd);
Ask him who Pomfret's deadly secret knew,
Why her sad streets with noble blood were dy'd?
“Ask him, who with his ruffians holds in awe
My son, yet mocks him with a royal name?
And, while his fell assassins o'er him draw
Their snares, deep lulls him in a golden dream.
My son, yet mocks him with a royal name?
And, while his fell assassins o'er him draw
Their snares, deep lulls him in a golden dream.
“Yes! let that artful tyrant tell with pride,
How o'er the church he stretch'd his iron rod,
And bade her sons in him alone confide,
Daring with dreadless front to mock their God.
How o'er the church he stretch'd his iron rod,
And bade her sons in him alone confide,
Daring with dreadless front to mock their God.
“That God, who bids a mother's trembling heart
Outreason all the sages learned pride;
Bids nature drown the feeble voice of art,
And menac'd lives from real dangers hide.
Outreason all the sages learned pride;
Bids nature drown the feeble voice of art,
And menac'd lives from real dangers hide.
465
“But what avails a mother's trembling heart?
Ah! what avails a mother's feeble pow'r?
I see the close approach of murd'rous art,
I see, alas! my Richard's fatal hour!”
Ah! what avails a mother's feeble pow'r?
I see the close approach of murd'rous art,
I see, alas! my Richard's fatal hour!”
“Yet with my son I'll meet the stroke of fate!
Together will we meet the tyrant's frown!
Our fall will raise his savage pride elate,
And all his cruel machinations crown.”
Together will we meet the tyrant's frown!
Our fall will raise his savage pride elate,
And all his cruel machinations crown.”
“And yet, ev'n yet, I'll trust the bounteous pow'r,
That rais'd me humble to a royal bed;
That o'er my child, in this disastrous hour,
His kind paternal arm shall still be spread.”
That rais'd me humble to a royal bed;
That o'er my child, in this disastrous hour,
His kind paternal arm shall still be spread.”
“Trust in him still,” the mitred form reply'd;
“Trust him for better seasons to ensue:
His messenger, I bid thy fears subside,
And open fairer prospects to thy view.”
“Trust him for better seasons to ensue:
His messenger, I bid thy fears subside,
And open fairer prospects to thy view.”
“Not Gloster's vassal I, nor his command
Sways me this holy task to undergo:
Accept a pledge of faith, this spotless hand;
I come to his designs a deadly foe.”
Sways me this holy task to undergo:
Accept a pledge of faith, this spotless hand;
I come to his designs a deadly foe.”
“I come to save thy son! for hov'ring nigh
The tyrant's guards, on some black errand bent,
Seem to regard those walls with savage eye:
Then haste! fair mourner! and thy foes prevent!”
The tyrant's guards, on some black errand bent,
Seem to regard those walls with savage eye:
Then haste! fair mourner! and thy foes prevent!”
466
“Full little would those walls”—He scarce had said:
The trumpet blew the loud concerted sign.
“Oh! save my son!” exclaim'd the Queen dismay'd,
“They come! Oh! save the last of Edward's line!”
The trumpet blew the loud concerted sign.
“Oh! save my son!” exclaim'd the Queen dismay'd,
“They come! Oh! save the last of Edward's line!”
She spoke: and, swooning, fell a lifeless corse;
In dark oblivion long entranc'd she lay:
And when her vital pow'rs resum'd their force,
The victor's hand had borne the Prince away.
In dark oblivion long entranc'd she lay:
And when her vital pow'rs resum'd their force,
The victor's hand had borne the Prince away.
| Poems, chiefly dramatic and lyric | |