Effusions of Love from Chatelar to Mary, Queen of Scotland Translated from a Gallic Manuscript, in the Scotch College at Paris. Interspersed with songs, sonnets, and notes explanatory, by the translator [i.e. S. W. H. Ireland]. To which is added, historical fragments, poetry, and remains of the amours, of that unfortunate Princess |
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TO THE FADING ROSE OF LOVE.
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 | Effusions of Love from Chatelar to Mary, Queen of Scotland |  |
101
TO THE FADING ROSE OF LOVE.
Poor love-lorn maid, thy bleeding heart
Doth all my withering pangs impart,
As hopeless as thyself I pine;
I weep the queen of bliss, whilst thou
Send'st forth to love the fervent vow
For him who never can be thine.
Doth all my withering pangs impart,
As hopeless as thyself I pine;
I weep the queen of bliss, whilst thou
Send'st forth to love the fervent vow
For him who never can be thine.
Thy tears with tears will I requite,
With thee I'll sigh the tedious night,
And praise my love with falt'ring breath;
With thee I'll hope, with thee despair,
With thee the wrath of heav'n I'll dare,
By cursing life and courting death.
With thee I'll sigh the tedious night,
And praise my love with falt'ring breath;
With thee I'll hope, with thee despair,
With thee the wrath of heav'n I'll dare,
By cursing life and courting death.
And yet, though hopeless be thy love,
One pang like mine thou can'st not prove—
I'm more accursed far than thee;
For him thou lov'st will weep thy doom,
But love's bright empress on the tomb
Will never shed one tear for me.
One pang like mine thou can'st not prove—
I'm more accursed far than thee;
For him thou lov'st will weep thy doom,
But love's bright empress on the tomb
Will never shed one tear for me.
102
The gem of pity is thy lot,
Whilst I must wither quite forgot
By her who reigns my bosom's queen;
Blighted by hope, and left forlorn,
My heart is doom'd to wear the thorn,
And mourn love's rose—poor Angeline!
Whilst I must wither quite forgot
By her who reigns my bosom's queen;
Blighted by hope, and left forlorn,
My heart is doom'd to wear the thorn,
And mourn love's rose—poor Angeline!
| Effusions of Love from Chatelar to Mary, Queen of Scotland | |