NOR guard nor pomp was there, nor regal state:
Unseen the stranger pass’d the palace gate,
Through lonely courts and gloomy antique halls,
Where time-tinged hangings clothed the unsun’d walls.
Cold, dreary, dark, deserted all appear’d;
And not a footstep, not a voice was heard!
Onward he pass’d, and as he went he sigh’d,
Oh! what a lesson this to human pride!
Deep to his heart the self-taught moral flew,
And from his lips these feeling accents drew:
“Ah! what is grandeur! what a fate is thine,
Unhappy prince! and yet it may be MINE .”
Scarce had he spoke, when on his ear there stole
A solemn chant, that touch’d upon his soul!
Now swelling deep, now soft, now sad they sing;
Hark! ’tis a requiem to a murder’d King!
And now, the chapel’s slowly-opening door
He gained, then awed, surprised, proceeds no more,
But silent humbly kneel’d the stranger chief,
And sacred tears sooth’d, as he kneel’d, his grief.
There he beheld, low at the altars feet,
The prostrate prince he anxious sought to greet;
Who meek in suffering, bends beneath the rod,
And seeks consolement at the THRONE of GOD.
There clad in sacred stole, lo! at his side,
Him, who when martyr’d royal Louis died,
With virtuous firmness, caught his parting breath,
And sooth’d with hope sublime the pangs of death.
There last of all her race to exile driven,
Deprived of all, “save innocence and Heaven,”
Heard he the daughter of the murder’d King,
Peace to his manes mid the requiem sing!
Oh scene afflicting to the feeling heart!
Where every sense is fill’d with sorrow’s smart.
Lo! royal beauty, in life’s early morn,
From friends, from kindred, and from country torn,
Like a fair flower, that by a stranger hand
Stolen, nursed and planted in a distant land,
With charms exotic is more sweet, as rare,
Yet fades, alas! beneath its fostering care.
At length, the sacred service o’er, they rise,
And, ah! what tender joy, what glad surprise;
What various feelings now again possess’d
The mourner’s heart, when to that heart he press’d
His great ILLUSTRIOUS GUEST ! the suppliant’s pray’r
Heaven seem’d to hear: and as to soothe his care,
Had with its own benevolence inspired
That breast, with pity as with glory fired!
Yet! for a moment were its rays suppress’d
By sorrows tear, when thus the prince address’d:
“What though no diadem thy brows adorn,
“Where oft beneath the jewel lurks the thorn;
“Yet shalt thou soon a regal throne ascend,
“And with thy virtues give mankind a friend.”
The generous warmth relumed the mourner’s eye,
Glow’d on his cheek, and drew a grateful sigh,
As from the heart all eloquent it came:
It spoke of glory, honour, virtue, fame,
In thrilling thoughts confused, that want a name.
The wanderer Joy return’d, so long unknown,
And Hope was proud to own a royal home.
Emotion swell’d too full the exile’s breast,
For words; the stranger’s hand alone he press’d,
And from the chapel led the distant way,
While social thoughts again resumed their sway.
A light repast succeeds; with fairer hand
Not fabled Hebe gave at Jove’s command
The full nectarian cup, or smiles so sweet
As those which now the pensive stranger meet.
Yet he was sad; for her enchanting form
Seem’d a fair rose, the victim of the storm:
Torn from its stem, it fades, unseen, unknown,
Its sweets exhaling to the winds alone.
So seem’d adorn’d with every blooming grace
The sad survivor of her murder’d race,
His thoughts ran back to every dreadful scene,
And memory question’d if SUCH THINGS BEEN !
By all he saw, by all he felt, opprest,
Reflective sorrow fill’d his ardent breast;
For he had learn’d to feel, ere yet a crown
He wore, the generous Hero’s best renown!
Now time press’d on,–time, who ne’er knew to wait
E’en royal wills, but makes his will their fate!
The illustrious stranger rose, he must depart,
Reluctant did he feel, for in his heart
Imprest, a thousand tender thoughts had been,
Nor ever will forget that morning’s scene.
By duty urged, the royal guest withdrew,
But not content to bid a soft adieu,
More than his pity, sympathy to prove,
And for an equal show respect and love;
A splendid guard of honour bade repair,
And to his host these friendly greetings bear.
(Mrs. Walter Spencer)
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