A JACOBITE REVIVAL.

One voice I heard of a ghostly horde,

About a visionary board,

That said,

While goblets filled with ruby-red:

“Can you remember, good my lord,

“Among the newer creeds and laws,

The unrevived, pathetic cause

Of kings?

Can you remember all such things?

How long, how long ago it was!

“What is the story? Rivets loose,

Superb contrivance; fainter use;

For years,

Allegiance, consecrate with tears,

Sad loyalty, its own excuse;

“A morning faith magnificent;

Defiance breaking; ardor spent

And pains

For royal blood thro’ dwindled veins,

Half-clogged with dust of dull content,

“But weak not wholly; for there burst

In the last scion, battle-nursed,

Such scope

Of rich emprise, that our rash hope

Wrote him not last, indeed, but first.

“For our true liege folk mocked at ease,

And chartered foes, and crossed the seas:

Behold!

Where are they now, the gaps, the old

Delicious taunts and enmities?

“Then, troops of gallant gentlemen

That passed by night o’er field and fen,

Did shout

Townward, lusty and loud throughout:

‘When the King comes back to his own again.’

“Then rose a prayer, heart-tremulous,

Near many an heir, in many a house,

Asleep:

‘O kindly Heaven! do thou but keep

Our children rebels after us!’

“Then sailors landing from the fleet,

Idling wits in a sunny street,

And sirs

With trim-clipp’d beards and rattling spurs

Met, swearing fealty: so we meet.

“And since the stars, and you, and I

Have seen the cycle rolling by,

And know

That right is right, thro’ flower and snow,

Why then, give still the wonted cry:—

“Here’s to the proud, forgotten names,

Here’s to the Stuart, Charles and James!

Ah me!

Full few that live so long as we

Fan older love to steadier flames.

“Here’s to our fathers, Cavaliers;

Their noble toil, their patient years

That bore

A burden precious now no more:

So may they rest in happier spheres.

“And here’s our benison for her

Who doth the forfeit sceptre stir;

A toast

Late in the day, and welcome most:

Death and doom to Hanover!”

. . . .

Now this I heard from comrades dead,

And vowed Amen to all they said,

And rose

With fair intent to draw more close;

But like the forest deer they fled.