MALCOLM, KING OF SCOTLAND, TO HIS WIFE, ST. MARGARET.

God speed thee, sweet, in all thy tasks of love,

The daily round of thy heart’s majesty—

Thy dear lips opened unto clemency—

My Margaret, my pearl all price above;

My little kingdom, where as king I reign

O’er lands so fair I might with gladness give

All earthly state in these alone to live

Where nothing base doth holy ground profane.

My queen, my Atheling, true noble one,

That wearest on thy Saxon brow a grace

Wherein all loyal hearts can true love trace

To this north land the misty hills do crown.

My rose-lipped daisy, lighting Scotland’s sod

With happy faces lifted up to God.

II.

God speed thee, sweet; my heart so singeth e’er,

As grows more dear among our poor thy fame

With every day. O Lady, true of name,

Giver of bread to all beneath thy care,

My royal-hearted queen and flawless pearl,

How shall my sin-stained prayers for thee avail,

That dost least fault with innocent tears bewail?

Meek daisy, whose white petals do unfurl

From soul wherein all golden visions shine!

So near to God thou seem’st, and pray’st so well,

The book I kiss whereon thy pure eyes dwell,

So grows my prayer the words that have been thine,

So surely grows it sweeter in His ear,

Tuned to the music of thy singing clear.

III.

May that brave saint, sweet wife, whose name is thine,

Whose virgin feet unharmed on dragons fell,

Keep thee in grace with Him thou lov’st so well

Till that far day when shall thy beauty shine

With that light glorified her features wear.

Blessed light! fair even now encircling thee

When, bowed thy soul in fond humility,

Thou kneelest, of thy God possessed, at prayer.

Ah! love, with Christ, our Lord, forget not me

Who tread this tangled pathway here below

With eyes more dim than thine and feet more slow;

So, when in life eternal we are met,

I still may wear my pearl, my Margaret!