afe. 189 



Men may learn from them, be it joy or pain, 

 That bids the heart its wonted calm forego, 



Sunbeams, or showers, loud wind, or driving rain, 

 The morning hoar frost, or the dazzling snow, 



The small bird, journeying through the pathless skies, 



May win dull thought, from earthly care to rise. 



It might be, that in such a glowing hour, 



When shone the old oak, as with living flame, 



While anxious thoughts within her breast had power, 

 Forth from yon aged hall* a lady came 



To meet the freshness of the evening breeze, 



Viewless, yet rustling still among the trees. 



Oh ! there were hearts within that stately hall, 

 Though ruined now, that beat with high alarm, 



And champing steeds, and warders waiting all 



To guard, if need might be, from gathering harm, 



And cautious looks, and voices speaking low, 



As if they feared an hour of coming woe. 



Yes, life or death, eternity or time, 



Waited the passing of that anxious day ; 



A throne, a prison, much perchance of crime, 

 Should statesmen battle, each in stern array ; 



Should death steal onward through a palace gate, 



Warning his victim from her hall of state. 



* The Palace of Bishops Hatfield, then a royal residence, where 

 the Princess Elizabeth resided in a kind of honourable custody, 

 though still rigorously guarded. 



