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They half beguiled her of her cares, they soothed her into

smiles,

They won her thoughts from bigot zeal, and fierce domestic broils:

But hark! the tramp of armed men! the Douglas' battle

cry!

They come they come-and lo! the scowl of Ruthven's hollow eye!

And swords are drawn, and daggers gleam, and tears and words are vain,

The ruffian steel is in his heart-the faithful Rizzio's

slain!

Then Mary Stuart brushed aside the tears that trickling

fell;

"Now for my father's arm!" she said, "my woman's heart, farewell!"

The scene was changed. It was a lake, with one small lonely isle,

And there, within the prison walls of its baronial pile, Stern men stood menacing their queen, till she should stoop to sign

The traitorous scroll that snatched the crown from her ancestral line: :

My lords, my lords!" the captive said, "were I but

once more free,

With ten good knights on yonder shore, to aid my cause and mc,

That parchment would I scatter wide to every breeze that

blows,

And once more reign a Stuart queen o'er my remorseless

foes!"

A red spot burned upon her cheek-streamed her rich tresses down,

She wrote the words-she stood erect-a queen without

a crown!

The scene was changed. A royal host a royal banner

bore,

And the faithful of the land stood round their smiling queen once more,

She staid her steed upon a hill-she saw them marching

by

She heard their shouts-she read success in every flash

ing eye;—

The tumult of the strife begins-it roars-it dies away; And Mary's troops and banners now, and courtierswhere are they?

Scattered, and strewn, and flying far, defenceless and undone,―

O God! to see what she has lost, and think what guilt has won!

Away! away! thy gallant steed must act no laggard's

part;

Yet vain his speed, for thou dost bear the arrow in thy heart.

Beside the block a sullen

The scene was changed.

headsman stood,

And gleamed the broad axe in his hand that soon must drip with blood.

With slow and steady step there came a lady through the

hall,

And breathless silence chained the lips, and touched the hearts of all;

Rich were the sable robes she wore her white veil round

her fell

And from her neck there hung the cross- -that cross she loved so well!

I knew that queenly form again, though blighted was its bloom,

I saw that grief had decked it out-an offering for the

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I knew the eye, though faint its light, that once so brightly

shone,

I knew the voice, though feeble now, that thrilled with every tone,

I knew the ringlets, almost grey, once threads of living

gold,

I knew that bounding grace of step-that symmetry of

mould!

Even now I see her far away, in that calm convent

aisle,

I hear her chaunt her vesper-hymn, I mark her holy smile,

Even now I see her bursting forth, upon her bridal morn, A new star in the firmament, to light and glory born! Alas! the change! she placed her foot upon a triple throne,

And on the scaffold now she stands-beside the block,

alone!

The little dog that licks her hand, the last of all the

crowd

Who sunned themselves beneath her glance, and round her footsteps bowed!

Her neck is bared-the blow is struck-the soul has

passed away;

The bright-the beautiful—is now a bleeding piece of

clay!

The dog is moaning piteously, and as it gurgles o'er, Laps the warm blood that trickling runs unheeded to the floor!

The blood of beauty, wealth, and power-the heart-blood of a queen,

The noblest of the Stuart race-the fairest earth has

seen,

Lapped by a dog! Go think of it, in silence and alone, Then weigh against a grain of sand the glories of a

throne !

H. G. B.

Edinburgh, 1828.

INVOCATION TO THE ECHO OF A

SEA-SHELL.

BY ALARIC A. WATTS.

Murmurings from within

Were heard, sonorous cadences; whereby
To his belief the monitor expressed
Mysterious union with his native sea.

WORDSWOrth.

I.

VOICE of the deep, illimitable sea!

Discarded offspring of the wind and wave!
Who, like a captive struggling to be free,
Thus ever moan'st in thy mysterious cave,—
Art thou a syren, by some sea-god's spell

Prisoned in this smooth shell?

II.

Or, but a spirit of the "vasty deep,"

Called up to earth by some enchanter's wand ?— Whose was the charm that broke thy long, cold sleep, And brought thee, murmuring, from thy parent sand? How wert thou ushered to the realms of day,

Syren, or Spirit, say?

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