* * * was a He be In 1572 The songs she loved in early years—the songs Navarre, a country east of Biscay in gallant Chatelar; Spain. Chatelar, Pierre de Chastelard 70 They won her thoughts from bigot zeal and French nobleman fierce domestic broils : who followed Mary to Scotland. But hark! the tramp of armèd men! the came deeply in love Douglas * battle-cry! with her, and acted They come !—they come !—and lo! the scowl he was beheaded on so indiscreetly that of Ruthven's * hollow eye! a charge of treason And swords are drawn, and daggers gleam, and 0.1562; Douglas, James Dougtears and words are vain las, Earl of Morton, The ruffian steel is in his heart—the faithful was a reading accomRizzio's slain ! plice in the murder of Rizzio. 75 Then Mary Stuart dashed aside the tears that he became Regent, and was beheaded in trickling fell : 1581, as being found “Now for my father's arm !” she said ; “my accessory to the mur. ! woman's heart farewell !” der of Darnley. Ruthven (Riven), a Scotch lord, who, with Lord Lindsay, The scene was changed. It was a lake with conveyed Mary to one small lonely isle ; Lochleven Castle in And there, within the prison-walls of its baro- 1567. nial pile, Stern men stood menacing * their queen, till Menacing, threatenshe should stoop to sign. ing. 80 The traitorous scroll* that snatched the crown Traitorous scroll, the from her ancestral line. nobles required Mary. on pain of death, to “My lords !—my lords !” the captive said, sign a document' rewere I but once more free, signing the crown in With ten good knights on yonder shore to aid my cause and me, breeze that blows, Remorseless, pitiless. 85 A red spot burned upon her cheek-streamed her rich tresses down, A royal host, Mary from Lochleven banner bore, round her 6000 men, And the faithful of the land stood round their She was totally de feated at Langside, smiling Queen once more. near Glasgow. favour of her son, She stayed her steed upon a hill-she saw them marching byShe heard their shouts—she read success in 90 every flashing eye. Tumult, uproar, great The tumult * of the strife begins-it roars- -it * noise, dies away ; from the field to who in beth. She was beheaded at Fotherin And Mary's troops and banners now, and courtiers—where are they? less and undone ;- guilt has won ! Away. With a few Away !* away! thy gallant steed must act no 95 followers Mary fled laggard's * part; Dundrennan Abbey, Yet vain his speed—for thou dost bear the sixty miles off, where arrow in thy heart ! she spent her last night in Scotland. Laggard, one The scene was changed. Beside the block * a loiters. sullen headsman stood, Beside the block, Mary was kept prisoner for And gleamed the broad axe in his hand, that eighteen years soon must drip with blood. England by Eliza With slow and steady step there came a Lady through the hall, gay Castle, Northamp. And breathless silence chained the lips and 100 tonshire,7th February touched the hearts of all. 1587. I knew that queenly form again, though Blighted, withered. blighted * was its bloom ; I saw that grief had decked it out-an offering for the tomb ! once so brightly shone ; that of living gold ! I knew that bounding grace of step—that Symmetry, regulasymmetry * of mould ! [vent isle, rity, beautiful Even now I see her far pearance, in that calm con away, holy smile, Even now I see her bursting forth upon the Firmament, the heavens. [born! triple throne. A new star in the firmament,* to light and glory 110 her Queen of Scotland Alas ! the change !—she placed her foot upon and England, and on a triple throne, * his death she became And on the scaffold now she stands-beside Queen of France as ap bridal morn, * the block-alone! well. The little dog that licks her hand, the last of. all the crowd and round her footsteps bowed !- soul is passed away! piece of clay! mournfully. Laps * the warm blood that trickling runs un- Laps, drinks or licks heeded to the floor ! up with the tongue. The blood of beauty, wealth, and power—the heart-blood of a Queen,- earth hath seen, and alone; of a throne ! * 5 THE DYING CHRISTIAN TO HIS SOUL.-Pope. Vital, that which gives life. Bliss, happiness, Sirife, struggling for victory. Absorbs, TO takes up entire atten one's Recedes, fades from sight, retires. 25 The world recedes ! * it disappears ! With sounds seraphic * ring ! O Death! where is thy sting? Seraphic, angelig, pure, sublime. THE SONG OF THE SHIRT.*-T. Hoodo for a woman. * THOMAS Hoon (1798-1845) was born in London. He was a great humourist and poet. Apprenticed to an engraver in his youth, he soon left business for literature, and delighted the world for many years with his wonderful humour and wit. He was buried at Kensal Green, with the epitaph chosen by himself, “ He sang the Song of the Shirt.”-Other works : Whims and Oddities, The Bridge of Sighs, The Dream of Eugene Aram, &c. With fingers weary and worn, With eyelids heavy and red, Plying * her needle and thread- 5 In poverty, hunger, and dirt, Dolorous pitch, sor- And still with a voice of dolorous pitch * rowful tone. She sang the “Song of the Shirt !” " Work ! work! work! IO It's oh to be a slave Turk, an inhabitant Along with the barbarous Turk,* of Turkey, where the Where woman has never a soul to save, 15 badly If this is Christian work ! treated. “ Work-work-work Work-work-work Till the eyes are heavy and dim ! Gusset, an angular 20 piece of cloth insert- Seam, and gusset,* and band, ed in a garment to Band, and gusset, and seam, strengthen some part Till over the buttons I fall asleep, And sew, &c. Her And sew them on in a dream ! mind is so much engaged with her busi “O Men, with Sisters dear! ness, that even in her sleep she fancies she O Men, with Mothers and Wives ! is still at work. It is not linen you're wearing out, Stitch-stitch-stitch, 30 Shroud, a winding Sewing at once, with a double thread, sheet for dead bodies. A Shroud as well as a Shirt. women are * of it. 25 * *The Song of the Shirt. This beautiful poem appeared first in the Christmas number of Punch for 1843; it ran like wildfire, and caused a great sensation throughout the country. It served to draw attention to the needlewomen, and it made Hood famous. Phantom, ghost, apparition. 35 40 Never flags, never stops. 45 a Blank, bare, empty. * 50 Chime to chime, from one hour to another. “But why do I talk of Death ? That phantom * of grisly bone, It seems so like my own- Because of the fasts I keep; And flesh and blood so cheap ! My labour never flags; A crust of bread—and rags. A table,-a broken chair,- For sometimes falling there ! “Work—work—work ! Work-work-work- Band, and gusset, and seam, numbed, * “ Work—work—work, And work-work—work, The brooding swallows cling, And twit * me with the Spring. "Oh but to breathe the breath With the sky above my head, To feel as I used to feel, And the walk that costs a meal! A respite * however brief ! But only time for Grief ! * Benumbed, stupified. 60 * Eaves, the parts of 65 70 a 75 A respite, &c., a rest |