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them her blessing, and solicited their prayers. She then seated herself again. Kennedy, taking from her a handkerchief edged with gold, pinned it over her eyes; the
executioners, holding her by the arms, led her to the block; 5 and the queen, kneeling down, said repeatedly, with a firm voice, “ Into thy hands, O Lord, I commend my spirit.”
But the sobs and groans of the spectators disconcerted the headsman. He trembled, missed his aim, and inflicted
a deep wound in the lower part of the skull. The queen 10 remained motionless; and at the third stroke her head was
severed from her body. When the executioner held it up, the muscles of the face were so strongly convulsed, that the features could not be recognized. He cried as usual,
“God save queen Elizabeth.” 15 “So perish all her enemies !” subjoined the Dean of Peterborough.
“So perish all the enemies of the gospel !” exclaimed, in a still louder tone, the fanatical Earl of Kent.
Not a voice was heard to cry amen. Party feeling was absorbed in admiration and pity.
Wilson. [JOHN WILSON was born May 19, 1785, at Paisley, in Scotland, and died April 3, 1854. In 1812 he published a poem called the “ Isle of Palms,” which won high, though not wide, admiration, for its tenderness of feeling and beauty of sentiment. In 1816 there appeared from his pen a volume containing “ Tho City of the Plague,” a dramatic poem, and several miscellaneous pieces in verse, In 1820 he was appointed professor of moral philosophy in the University of Edinburgh, succeeding Dr. Thomas Brown. In 1822 he published, anonymously, a volume called “ The Lights and Shadows of Scottish Life,” containing seyeral stories and sketches illustrating the traits and manners of the rural population of Scotland. A novel in the same style, called “ Margaret Lyndsay,” was published by him in 1823. But his ablest and most characteristic productions are those which he wrote from time to time for“ Blackwood's (Edinburgh) Magazine."
His intellectual powers were accompanied and enforced by the finest physical gifte. His form was cast in the noblest mould of manly beauty. He was a
keen sportsman, and excelled in all athletic exercises. In his youth and early
Her giant form
Mid the deep darkness, white as snow ! 6 But gentler now the small waves glide
Like playful lambs o'er a mountain's side;
Many ports will exult at the gleam of her mast! 10 – Hush ! hush! thou vain dreamer! this hour is her laste
Five hundred souls in one instant of dread
Becomes a lifeless wreck.
Her planks are torn asunder,
Her sails are draggled in the brine, 20 That gladdened late the skies,
And her pendant that kissed the fair moonshine
Her beauteous sides, whose rainbow hues
O’er the wreaths of murmuring snow, 5 To the coral rocks are hurrying down,
To sleep amid colors as bright as their own.
Oh! many a dream was in the ship
And sights of home with sighs disturbed 10 The sleeper's long-drawn breath.
Instead of the murmur of the sea,
The hum of the spreading sycamore 15 That grows before his cottage door,
And the swallow's song in the eaves.
To the dangers his father had passed ; 20 And his wife — by turns she wept and smiled,
As she looked on the father of her child
And the rush of waters is in his soul. 25 Astounded, the reeling deck he paces,
Mid hurrying forms and ghastly faces; –
Brave spirits stupefied or dead, 30 And madness and despair.
Now is the ocean’s bosom bare,
Like a struggling, dream at break of day. 35 No image meets my wandering eye,
But the new-risen sun and the sunny sky.
Though the night-shades are gone, yet a vapor dull
XCV. - THE CONTRASTS OF ALPINE SCENERY,
Thine is a scene alike where souls united
And could the ceaseless vultures cease to prey
Where Nature, nor too sombre, nor too gay,
2 Adieu to thee again ! a vain adieu !
There can be no farewell to scenes like thine ;
And if reluctantly the eyes resign
Their cherished gaze upon thee, lovely Rhine, 'T is with the thankful glance of parting praise :
More mighty spots may rise — more glaring shine, But none unite, in one attaching maze, The brilliant, fair, and soft, — the glories of old days.
But these recede. Above me are the Alps,
The palaces of Nature, whose vast walls Have pinnacled in clouds their snowy scalps,
And throned Eternity in icy halls
Of cold sublimity, where forms and falls
All that expands the spirit, yet appals,
Gather around these summits, as to show How Earth may pierce to Heaven, yet leave vain man below.
Clear, placid Leman! thy contrasted lake .
With the wide world I've dwelt in is a thing Which warns me, with its stillness, to forsake
Earth’s troubled waters for a purer spring.
This quiet sail is as a noiseless wing
Torn ocean's roar; but thy soft murmuring
5 It is the hush of night; and all between
Thy margin and the mountains, dusk, yet clear, Mellowed and mingling, yet distinctly seen,
Save darkened Jura, whose capped heights appear
Precipitously steep; and drawing near,
Of flowers yet fresh with childhood ; on the car
6 He is an evening reveller, who makes
His life an infancy, and sings his fill ;
Starts into voice a moment, then is still.
There seems a floating whisper on the hill; -
All silently their tears of love distil,
Ye stars ! which are the poetry of heaven,
If, in your bright leaves, we would read the fate