SPIRIT'S SONG. And raise from that dark earth your vision, To this bright-peopled home of mine ;— Where Faith has found her full fruition, Beyond the fading scenes of time! 169 THE PICTURED HALL. "Enter the house,-forget it not I pray you, ROGERS. THOU ancient home of other days, that 'mid the forest green, Dost hide the old magnificence of pomp that once has been, None of the busy sounds of earth intrude thy bowers among, Where solitude a vigil keeps, the wood-crown'd dales along. Within thee, do the echoing halls proclaim that few abide, Thy pictured galleries and saloons, and tapestried walls beside, The very fountain's ceaseless flow, is heard in mur murings ever, And round do shadowy forms remain, to earth re turning never! Among them Scotland's hapless Queen, a pale and faded flower, Though graceful still her peerless mien, and her sad beauty's power. But in her soft and mournful eyes, deep sorrow's light appears, Methinks how vain to give her rest, the regal name she bears! "An envied lot," she seems to say, 66 were mine, if I could dwell, Far from this gilded prison, in some lonely russet cell!" And sternly there the maiden Queen, upon her rival frown'd, In stiff brocaded robe attired, and head with jewels bound; And smiling courtiers round her steps in loyal duty wait, And ever round her seems to dwell an atmosphere of state. And there did murder'd Strafford look with earnest pleading gaze, As if his very semblance took, the thoughts of other days; Its mute expression seem'd to ask where truth and justice staid? What conscience-clouded long regrets, within thy grave were laid! And Villiers, from his place of state, exultingly look'd down, With fickle fortune's smile elate, and favour from the crown. And round about, with fixed gaze, was many a noble dame, With curling tresses, silken robe, and high and titled name! And all unconscious look'd they there,-how soon oblivion's pall Would on their very memories and vaunted beauty fall! Fast fleeting earth,-thy transient things too soon are gliding by, Methinks I hear some whisper low, among these records sigh. |