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In his effulgent presence. "T was a boast

This land into a whirlpool deep and wide,
In after ages this day to have seen

To swallow in iis vast insaliate gulf
Him whom all throng'd to see ; memory of him, Her peace and smooth felicity, will now
Every brief notice of his mien and beight Their waters reconciled in one broad bed,
Become an heir-loom; mothers at the font

Briton and Anglian one in race and name.
Gare to their babes his name, and e'er that child 'Tis written in the ancient solemn Runes,
Was held the staff and honour of the race.

'T is spoken by prophetic virgin lips.

Avenger, thou and I our earthly wars So met the Nation in their judgment Hall,

Have ended, but my spirit yet shall hold Its pavement was the sacred mother earth,

Noble, inexorable strife with thine. Its roof the crystal and immortal heavens.

It shall heave off its barrow, burst its tomb, Then forth the captives came, Argantyr first, And to my sons discourse of glorious foes Even with his wonted loftiness of tread:

In this rich Island to be met: my shade Nature's rich heraldry upon his brow

Shall cross them in their huntings, it shall walk Emblazing him of those whose scorn the world The ocean paths, and on the winds, and seize Bears unashamed, by whom to be despised

Their prows, and fill their sails, and all its voice Is no abasemeni. Men's eyes ranged from him And all its secret influences urge To Samor, back to him-in wonder now

To the White Isle ;* their slumbers shall not rest, Of conquest o'er such mighty foe, now lost

Their quiet shall be weariness, till lull'd
The wonder in their kindred Conqueror's pride. Upon the pillow of success repose
Then said the Anglian_* Wherefore lead ye here!" | The high, the long hereditary feud."
The sternness of his questioning appallid

So saying, he ihe bark that lay prepared
All save the Judge.--" What Briton," he replied, With sail unfurl'd, ascended. She went forih
“Witnesseth aught against the Anglian Chief?”— Momently with quick shadow the blue Thames
Thereat was proclamation, East and West

Darkening, then leaving on its breast a light And North and South: the silent winds came back Like silver. The fix'd eyes of wondering men With wings unloaded : so that noble mien

Track'd his departure, while with farewell gleam Wrought conquest o'er man's darkest passions, hate, The bright Sun shone upon his brow, and seem'd And doubt, and terror, so the Captive cast

A triumph in the motion of the stream; His yoke on every soul, and harvess'd it

So loftily upon its long slow ebb Unto his valiant spirit's chariot wheels.

It bore that honour-laden bark.- Nor pause,

Lo in the presence of the Judgment Court Then spake the stately and tribunald Judge" Anglian Argantyr! Britain is not wont

The second criminal: pride had not passid T inflict upon a fair and open foe

Nor majesty from his hoar brow; he stood

With all except the terror of despair, Aught penal but defeat; her warfare bows

Consciously in fatality's strong bonds Beneath her feet, but tramples not; her throne

Manacled, of the coming death assured, Hath borne the stormy brunt of thy assault,

Yet fronting the black future with a look And dash'd it off, and thus she saith, “ Return,

Obdurate even to scornfulness. He seem'd Return unto thy German woods, nor more,

As he heard nought, as though his occupied ears Once baffled, vex our coasts with fruitless war.

Were pervious to no sound, since that dim voice And thy relurn shall be to years remote Our bond and charler of security;

Of her who speaking died, the silver hair'd, A shudder and cold trembling at our name

The Prophetess, that never spake untrue:

As ever with a long unbroken Now Shall pass with thee, the land that hash spurn'd back Her song was ranging through his brain, and struck Argantyr's march of victory, shall be known

Its death-knoll on his soul. Nor change had come T'eternal freedom consecrate. Your ships

Since that drear hour 10 eye or cheek; the craft, Shall plough our seas, but turn their timorous prows

The wisdom that was wont to make him lord
Aloof, while on the deck the Sea King points
To our white cliffs. and salih—“ The Anglian thence Had given its trust up to o'er-ruling fate,

Over the shifting pageant of events,
Retreated, shun the unconquerable shore.”—

And that stern Paramount, Necessity. * So never more shall my hot war-horse baihe

Had seal'd him for her own. Amid them all In British waters, nor my falchion meet

He tower'd, as when the summer thunderbolt The bold resistance of a British steel,

'Mid a rich fleet some storm-accustom'd bark So wills the Conqueror, thus the Conquer'd swears."

Hath stricken, round her the glad waters dance, Thus spake Argantyr; sndden then and swift, Her sails are full, her strong prow fronis the waves; Loftier shot up his brow, prophetic hues

But works within the irrevocable doom, Swam o'er his agitated features, words

Wells up her secret hold th' inundanı surge. Came with a rush and instantaneous flow.

And the heavy waters weigh her slowly down. “ I tell thee. Briton, that thy sons and mine

* The Welsh called it Inis Wen, the While Island, Speed, Shall be two meeting and conflicting tides,

B. 5. c. 2. Some derive Britain from Pryd Cain-Beauty and Whose fierce relentless enmity shall lasb

White. - Ibid

For the arraignment made the Judge a sign, And the first witness was a mighty cry, As 'l were the voice of the whole Isle, hills And plains and waters their abhorrence spake; Hoarse harmony of imprecation seem'd To break the ashy sleep of ruind towns, And th' untomb'd slumbers of far balile vales. As if the crowd about the Judgment Court Did only with articulate voice repeat What indistinct came down on every wind. Then all the near, the distant, sank away, Only a low and melancholy tone, Like a far music down a summer stream Remaind: upon the lulld, nor panting air Fell that smooth snow of sound, till nearer now It swell d, as clearer water-falls are heard When midnight grows more still. A funeral hymn, It pour'd the rapture of its sadness out, Even like a sparkling soporific wine. But now and then broke from its low long fall, Something of martial and majestic swell, That spake its mourning o'er no vulgar dead.

Lo to the royal burying.place, chance borne Even at this solemn time, or so ordain'd From their bright-scutcheon d biers their part to bear In this arraignment, came King Vortigern, And th' honour'd ashes of his Son. But still And voiceless these cold witnesses past on, Unto the place of tombs. Along the 'Thames Far Aated into silence the spent hymn: And one accusing sound arose from them, The heavy falling of their earth to earth.

Spake for them, they their solitary breasts
Beat, wrung their destitute cold hands, and pass'd.

Arose the mitred Germain, glanced his hand
From that majestic criminal, where lay
The ruins of God's church, and so sate down.

But Samor lookid upon the mourner train,
As though he sought a face that was not there,
That could not be, sott Emeric's.-*I hare none,
I only none to witness of my wrongs."-
So said he, but he shook the sofiness off,
On the tribunal rose severe, and stood
Erect before the mulutude." Thou King,
And ye, assembled People of the Isle,
If that I speak your sentence right, give in
Your sanction of Amen. Here stands the man,
Who two long years laid waste with fire and sword
Your native cities and your altar shrines :
Here stands the man, who by slow fraud and guile
Discrown'd your stately Monarch, Vortigern:
Here stands the man, hath water'd with your blood
The red and sickening herbage of your land:
Here stands the man, that to your peaceful feast
Brought Murther, that grim seneschal, and drugge
With your most noble blood your friendly cupe."

And at each charge came in the deep Amen, Even like the sounds men hear on stormy nights, When many thunders are abr ad. Nought moved, Stood Hengist, if emotion o'er him pass'd, "T was likest an elate contemptuous joy And glorying in those lofty worded crimes. Then, “Saxon llengist, as thy sword hath made Our children fatherless, so fatherless Must be thy children!"* And Amen knoll d back, As a plague-visited Metropolis Mourning the wide and general funeral, tolls From all her towers and spires the bell of death.

“ Thy children fatherless! not so—not so "Rose with a shriek that Woman by the grave, And she sprang forth, as from beneath the earth. As a partaker of, no mourner near That kingly coffin. Veil fell off, and land Started, through her bright tresses her pale face Glitter'd, like purest ivory chased in gold. Between the Criminal and Judge her stand Rowena took ; him as she saw and knew Flush'd a sick rapture o'er her face and neck, A fading mse-hue, like eve's parting light On a snow bank; but from her marble brow She the bright-clustering hair wiped back, and thos: “ Samor, the last time thou this brow beheld 'st The moonlight was upon it, since that hour The water hath flow'd o'er is, holy sign Haih there been les by Christian hand, and I Thy creed have learnt, and one word breathes it all Mercy."--" But Justice is God's attribule, Lady, as well as mercy, Man on earth Must be Vicegerent of both stern and mild, Lest over-ramping Evil set its foot

One female mourner came behind the King, Half of her face the veil conceal'd, her eyes Were visible, and though a deadly haze Film'd their sunk balls, she sent into the grave, Following the heavy and descending corpse, A look of such imploring loveliness, A glance so sad, so self-condemning, all (So sofily, tremulously it appeal'd) Might wonder that the spirit came not hack To animale for the utterance that she wish'd Those bloodless lips: forgiveness it was plain She sought, and one so beauteous to forgive, The dead might almost wake. And she sate down. Leaning her cheek upon a broken stone (Once a King's monument) as listening yet Th' acceptance of her prayers: nor cloister'd Nun Hath ever since mourning her broken vows, And his neglect for whom those vows she broke, Come to the image of her Virgin Saint With such a faded cheek and contrite mien, As her who by those royal ashes sate.

But lo, new witnesses: a matron train In flowing robes of grief came forth, the wives And mothers of those nobles foully slain At the Peace banquet, ther the memory yet Seem'd haunting of delicious days broke off. On Hengist, even a captive, dared not they Look firmly, as their helpless loneliness

* The words used to Agae were applied op this ecruien. according to the Welsh tradition. - Robert's Translation of the Brut of Tysilio.

Upon the prostrate world. The doom is said,

Exhausted she sank down upon her knees,
The doom must be.”—“Ha! Man with heart of clay, Her knees that fainted under her.—“ Ye can,
To answer with that cold and steadfast mien; Ye will not show unto a woman's eyes
Oh, I'll go back and sue the dead again,

That bloody consummation, not to mine.
There's more forgiveness in the cold deaf corpse Oh, thou that speakest in that brazen tone
Than the warm keen-ear'd living. From that vault Implacable, the last time thou and I
I felt sweet reconcilement stealing up,

Discoursed, thy voice was broken, tender, soft, That turo'd my tears to honey dew: here, all, Remember'st thou ? 't was then as it had caught All sullen and relentless on me glares.

The trembling of the moonlight, that lay round I ask not for myself, not for myself,

With rapturous disquiet bathing us. The ice of death is round my heart, there long Remember'st thou ?"- Almost the Judgment sword I've felt the slow consuming prey, I feel

Fell from the Avenger's failing hand, but firm The trembling ebb of my departing life.

He grasp'd it, and with eyes to heaven upturn'd, That hoary head, though granted to my prayers, "Oh, duty, duty, why art thou so stern ?" Shall never rest upon my failing knee,

Then, “Lady, lo, the headsman with his steel; The father that ye give me back (I feel

To that dark Priest 't is given to sacrifice
Ye give him, thou that bear'st the Avenger's name, The victim of to-day-depart! depart!
I know thee by a milder character,)

Colours may flow too deep for woman's sight,
That father cannot long be mine; his hands

And sounds may burst too drear for woman's ear." May lay me in the grave, his eyes may weep For they can weep, although ye think it not; Those hands ye deem for ever blood-embrued,

Stately as lily on a sunshine bank, I've felt them fondling with my golden hair,

Shaken from its curl'd leaves the o'ercharging dew, When with gay childish fool I danced to meet

Freshens and strengthens its bow'd stem, so white His far-resounding horn. That horn shall sound,

So brightening to a pale cold pride, a faint But on my deaf and earth-closed cars no more,

And trembling majesty, Rowena sate. No more.”_" Rowena, when a Nation speaks,

On Hengist's dropping lip and knitted brow The irrevocable sentence cannot change."

Was mockery at her fate-opposing prayer,

And that was all. But she—“ Proud-hearted Men, Then up her fair round arm she raised, and wrapt Ye vainly deem your privilege, your right, Like a rich mantle round her; her old pride Prerogative of your high-minded race, As the poetic Juno in the clouds

The glory of endurance, and the state Walking in her majestic ire, while slow

Of strong resolving fortitude. Here I,
Before her th' azure-breasted peacocks draw

A woman born to melt and faint and fail,
Her chariot.-—"Tell me, thou that site'st elate, A frail, a delicate, dying woman, sit
And ye, who call yourself this British realm,

To shame ye.” She endured the flashing stroke By what new right ye judge a German King ?

Of th' axe athwart her eyesight, and the blood Where are your charters, where your scrolls of law

That sprung around her she endured: still kept Whose bright and blazon'd titles give ye power

The lily its unbroken stateliness, To pass a doom on crowned head? Down, down,

And its pellucid beauty sparkled, still, Ye bold Usurpers of the Judgment seat,

But all its odours were exhaled-the breath Insolent doomers of a sacred life,

Of life, the tremulous motion was at rest; Beyond your sphere to touch, your grasp to seize."

A flower of marble on a temple wall, “ Lady, we judge by the adamantine law, "T was fair but lived not, glitter'd but was cold. That lives within the eternal soul of man,

While from the headless corpse t' is great account That God-enacted charter, Blood for blood."" Went fiercely forth the Pagan's haughty soul. 28


Anne Boleyn;




The subject of the following Drama had long ap

MEN peared to me peculiarly adapted to the purposes of King HENRY VIII. Poetry. I had, some time ago, imagined a sketch, in ARCHBISHOP Cranmer. a great degree similar to that which I have now filled STEPHEN GARDINER, Bishop of Winchester. up. The course of professional Study, which led me Lord Rochford, Brother of Queen Anne. to the early Annals of our Church, recalled it to my DUKE of Norfolk. remembrance, and, as it were, forced it on my atten. Sır Henry Norreys, tion. In the outline of the Plot, and the development Sir Francis Weston, Allendants on Queen Anne of the characters, especially that of Anne Boleyn, I Sir William Brereton, S have endeavoured to preserve historical truth: where Sir William Kingston, Lieutenant of the Tower. History is silent, I have given free scope to poetic Angelo Caraffa, a follower of Ignatius Loyola. license, and introduced a character entirely imaginary. Mark SMEATON. In endeavouring to embody that awful spirit of fana.

WOMEN. ticism—the more awful, because strictly conscientious QUEEN ANNE. -which was arrayed against our early Reformers, I COUNTESS of ROCHFORD. hope to be considered as writing of those times alone. Countess of WILTSHIRE, Mother of Queen Anne. The representation of the manner in which bigotry MAGDALENE SMEATON. hardens into intolerance, intolerance into cruelty and an infringement on the great eternal principles of morality, can never be an unprofitable lesson. The Annals of all Nations, in which Reformation was be

ANNE BOLEYN. gun or completed; those of the League in France, of the Low Countries and Spain, as well as of England, will fully bear me out in the picture which I have

SCENE. drawn; but I have no hesitation in asserting that

A small Garden near Westminster. even in those times the wise and good among the Roman Catholics reprobated, as strongly as ourselves,

MARK SMEATON, MAGDALENE SMEATON. the sanguinary and unprincipled means by which the

MAGDALENE. Power of the Papary was maintained. I should ob- On welcome, welcome--though I scarcely hoped serve, that I have, I trust with no onpardonable ana- That he who long haih dwelt in foreign climes, chronism, anticipated the perfect organization of that And now comes wearing the proud garb of Courts, Society, from which, as Robertson has with justice Would waste the precious treasure of a thought stated, “ mankind have derived more advantages, and On poor forgotten sister Magdalene. received greater injuries, than from any other of the religious fraternities." Though its Founder had al.

Still the same humble tender Magdalene, ready made many proselytes, the Society was not formally incorporated till about five years after the More high than her retiring self. Sweet sister,

Who deems, that none can rate her modest worth death of Anne Boleyn.

I would not wound thy heaven-devoted ears It may appear almost superfluous to add, ihat the manner in which the Poem is written, as well as the With the unwonted sounds of worldly flattery; religious nature of the interest, must for ever pre- That night was sweetest when I dream'd of thee

But in far distant climes, 'mid strangers' faces, clude it from public representation.

Our native garden here, our little world The Author of a Tragedy, recently published under Of common joys and sorrows. the same name, having pointed out some coincidences

MAGDALENE of expression between his Drama and mine, I beg to

Dearest Mark state, most explicitly, that previous to the publication The heart deems truth whate'er it wishes true. of Anne Boleyn, I had never seen, either in MS. or And wilt thou now and then steal hither to me, print, any contemporary Poem on the same subject. When thou 'rt not callid for at the Court? wilt bring






Thy music, such as in the royal Chapel

Are scoff'd; the dainty limbs are all too proud Thou 'rt wont to sing? Rude though mine ear, it loves T' endure the chastening sackcloth. Sin is still Thy music, brother.

Contagious: like herself are those that wait

On that heretical and wicked Queen.
Dearest, yes, I'll bring
All these, and hymns forbidden there; there's one The wicked Queen -oh! sister, dearest sister,
Was taught me by a simple fishe boy,

For the first time I'd see thy pure cheek bum
That sail'd the azure tide of that bright bay With penitent tears; go kneel, and ask Heaven's
That laves the walls of Naples: as he sung-

pardonWhat time the midnight waves were starr'd with barks, Scourge thy misjudging heart—the wicked Queen! Each with its single glow-worm lamp, that tipt Heaven's living miracle of all its graces! The waters round with rippling lines of light There's not a breathing being in her presence You would have thought Heaven's queen had strew'd But watches the least motion of a look, around

Th’unutier'd intimation of desire,
Silence, like that among the stars, when pause And lives upon the hope of doing service,
The Angels in ecstatic adoration.

That done, is like the joy hlest Angels feel

In minist'ring to prayers of holiest Saints.
Speak on, speak on-Were it a stranger's voice Authority she wears as 't were her birthright;
That thus discoursed, I could lose days in listening; And when our rooted knees would grow to earth
But thine

In adoration, reassuring gaiety

Makes the soul smile at its own fears.
O! Magdalene, thou know'st not here
In our chill, damp, and heavy atmosphere,

But, Mark,
The power, might, magic, mystery of sweet sounds! Believes she as the Church believes ?
Oh! on some rock to sit, the twilight winds
Breathing all odour by—at intervals

I know not To hear the hymnings of some virgin choir,

What she believes—I see but what she does. With pauses musical as music's self,

Loose Court, and shameless Queen -her audience Come swelling up from deep and unseen distance :

Is of the wretched, destitute, forlorn: Or under some vast dome, like Heaven's blue cope,

The usher to that Court is Beggary, All full and living with the liquid deluge

And Want the chamberlain ; her flatterers, those Of harmony, till pillars, walls, and aisles,

Whose eloquence is full and bursting hearts; The altar paintings and cold images,

Her parasites, wan troops of starving men Catch life and motion, and the weight of feeling

Round the full furnish'd hoard — pale dowerless Lies like a load upon the breathless bosom!

maidsBut speaking thus, hours will seem minutes, sister,

Nuns, like thyself, cast forth from their chaste eloistens And

To meet the bitter usage of the world ;

While holiest men are ever in her presence :
Thou wouldst say farewell. Yet ere we part Nor can their lavish charity exhaust
I long to speak one word—I dare not say

The treasures of her goodness.
Of counsel--but the love, whose only study
Is one heart's book, gains deeper knowledge, Mark,

Oh! Mark, Markor its dark leaves, than schools can teach, or man

My only joy on earth-that, if my soul Learn from his fellow men.

E’er dream'd of Heaven, wert evermore a part,

Th'intelligible part of its full bliss,
Sage monitress!

Thou art not warp'd by pride of new opinion?
Oh! Mark, Mark-in one cradle were we laid, Is 't new t'adore the mingled consummation
Our souls were born together, bred together;

Of beauty, gentleness, and goodness ?
In all thy thoughts, emotions, my fond love
Anticipated thine own consciousness ;

I felt them, ere thyself knew thine own feelings:

For this, for hearing this, I must do penanceAnd never yet impetuous wish was born

Fast, weep, and pray; and, oh! beware, bewareIn that warm heart, but, till fulfilment crown'd it,

The holy Father comes, whose keen eye reads Thou wert its slave-its bounden, felter'd slave.

The inmost soul; I've felt him pluck the thought, Oh! watch thyself, mistrust, fear

I dared not speak, from its dark sanctuary

l'the heart, and cast it down before mine eyes What?

Till my soul shudderd at its own corruption.

He sees us not-stand back-'t were ill t’ intrude

Why all things. Upon his saintly privacy, whose soul In that louse Court, they say, each hard observance, Haply is prostrate at Our Lady's feet, Fast, penance, all the rites of holy Church, | In our behalf, his poor unworthy flock.






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