"Look where a royal infant[A] kneels,
"Shrieking, and agoniz'd with fear,
"He sees the dagger pointed near
"A much-lov'd brother's[B] breast,
"And tells an absent mother all he feels:—
"His eager eye he casts around;
"Where shall her guardian form be found,
"On which his eager eye would rest!
"On her he calls in accents wild,
"And wonders why her step is slow
"To save her suff'ring child!—
"Rob'd in the regal garb, his brother stands
"In more majestic woe—
"And meets the impious stroke with bosom bare;
"Then fearless grasps the murd'rer's hands,
"And asks the minister of hell to spare
"The child whose feeble arms sustain
"His bleeding form from cruel Death.—
"In vain fraternal fondness pleads
"For cold is now his livid cheek,
"And cold his last, expiring breath:
"And now with aspect meek,
"The infant lifts his mournful eye,
"And asks with trembling voice, to die,
"If death will cure his heaving heart of pain—
"His heaving heart now bleeds—
"Foul tyrant! o'er the gilded hour
"That beams with all the blaze of power,
"Remorse shall spread her thickest shroud;
"The furies in thy tortur'd ear
"Shall howl, with curses deep, and loud,
"And wake distracting fear!
"I see the ghastly spectre rise,
"Whose blood is cold, whose hollow eyes
"Seem from his head to start—
"With upright hair, and shiv'ring heart,
Dark o'er thy midnight couch he bends,
And clasps thy shrinking frame, thy impious spirit rends."
[A] Richard Duke of York.
[B] Edward the Fifth.
VII.
Now his thrilling accents die—
His shape eludes my searching eye—
But who is he[A], convuls'd with pain,
That writhes in every swelling vein?
Yet in so deep, so wild a groan,
A sharper anguish seems to live
Than life's expiring pang can give:—
He dies deserted, and alone—
If pity can allay thy woes
Sad spirit they shall find repose—
Thy friend, thy long-lov'd friend is near!
He comes to pour the parting tear,
He comes to catch the parting breath—
Ah heaven! no melting look he wears,
His alter'd eye with vengeance glares;
Each frantic passion at his soul,
'Tis he has dash'd that venom'd bowl
With agony, and death.
[A] Sir Thomas Overbury, poisoned in the Tower by Somerset.
VIII.
But whence arose that solemn call?
Yon bloody phantom waves his hand,
And beckons me to deeper gloom—
Rest, troubled form! I come—
Some unknown power my step impels
To horror's secret cells—
"For thee I raise this sable pall,
"It shrouds a ghastly band:
"Stretch'd beneath, thy eye shall trace
"A mangled regal race:
"A thousand suns have roll'd, since light
"Rush'd on their solid night—
"See, o'er that tender frame grim famine hangs,
"And mocks a mother's pangs!
"The last, last drop which warm'd her veins
"That meagre infant drains—
"Then gnaws her fond, sustaining breast—
"Stretch'd on her feeble knees, behold
"Another victim sinks to lasting rest—
"Another, yet her matron arms would fold
"Who strives to reach her matron arms in vain—
"Too weak her wasted form to raise,
"On him she bends her eager gaze;
"She sees the soft imploring eye
"That asks her dear embrace, the cure of pain—
"She sees her child at distance die—
"But now her stedfast heart can bear
"Unmov'd, the pressure of despair—
"When first the winds of winter urge their course
"O'er the pure stream, whose current smoothly glides,
"The heaving river swells its troubled tides;
"But when the bitter blast with keener force,
"O'er the high wave an icy fetter throws,
"The harden'd wave is fix'd in dead repose."—
IX.
"Say who that hoary form? alone he stands,
"And meekly lifts his wither'd hands—
"His white beard streams with blood—
"I see him with a smile, deride
"The wounds that pierce his shrivel'd side,
"Whence flows a purple flood—
"But sudden pangs his bosom tear—
"On one big drop, of deeper dye,
"I see him fix his haggard eye
"In dark, and wild despair!
"That sanguine drop which wakes his woe—
"Say, spirit! whence its source."—
"Ask no more its source to know—
"Ne'er shall mortal eye explore
"Whence flow'd that drop of human gore,
"Till the starting dead shall rise,
"Unchain'd from earth, and mount the skies,
"And time shall end his fated course."—
"Now th' unfathom'd depth behold—
"Look but once! a second glance
"Wraps a heart of human mold
"In death's eternal trance."