The Kings and Queens of England with Other Poems | Page 3

in
keeping his ring,
I leave to some rhymer, more able to sing.
Next
James sixth of Scotland, first of England became--
In peace and
security permitted to reign.
In the person of James, two crowns were
united,
And England and Scotland remain undivided.
With this king
the reign of the Stuarts began,
And continued to the end of the reign
of Queen Ann.
In the reign of Charles first, commences a strife

Between King and Parliament, that ends but with life;
This poor King
was beheaded, his son had to flee,
And in his place Oliver Cromwell
we see.
Now in Cromwell the ruler of England we find;
Right or
wrong, I never could make up my mind;
Still all must allow (for deny
it who can?)
That this same Oliver was a very great man.
In eleven
years the days of the Commonwealth ended.
And gay Charles the
second, the throne then ascended.
This second king Charles king of
hearts might be call'd,
For many a fair one he seems t' have enthrall'd.

James second, brother of Charles second succeeded,
But after a
reign of four years, he seceded;
When quitting his throne, and his
country he flies
Over the channel to France, where he dies.
Next the
Prince of Orange, (from Holland he came,)
For the crown of old
England, asserted his claim
Through right of his wife, Princess Mary

by name.
And William the third with Mary his wife
Are crowned
King and Queen of England for life.
This princess was lovely in
person and mind,
As a wife most devoted, a friend ever kind.

Queen Ann's is the next reign that in order appears
And it covers the
space of thirteen full years.
Her death brought the reign of the Stuarts
to a close,
But firm on their ruins, the House of Hanover rose.
With
this house the reign of the Georges begins--
And four in succession
we count up as Kings.
George the third, grandson of the second, so
called,
Was for virtues and goodness of heart much extolled.
His
reign the longest of any appears,
Bearing title of king for sixty-two
years.
But when aged four score, this good king we find
Bereft of
his senses and hearing, and blind.
In this reign America declared
herself free,
And independent of rulers over the sea.
At length death
relieved him, and he was cut down,
To make way for his eldest and
libertine son.
But though of talent acknowledged the son possessed
more,
The sire's heart was good_, the _son's corrupt at the core;
Though admired for his beauty, and manners, and wit,
As a husband
and father he never was fit.
But before we pass on to the next reign in
course,
We have a most sorrowful tale to rehearse,
Of the young
princess Charlotte, next heir to the crown,
In the spring time of life,
scarce with warning cut down.
If ever the nation were mourners
sincere,
'Twas when they united around the sad bier
Of this
youthful princess so deservedly dear;
And stout-hearted men
unaccustomed to mourn,
Let bitter tears fall, as they gazed on her urn.

But who can describe the anguish of one,
The heart-stricken
husband apart and alone.
As the sun of his happiness rose to its height,

Death enters his dwelling, and lo! it is night;

The light of his house
forever has fled,
For his loved one, his dearest, lies low with the dead.

In the same day all his fair prospects were crossed,
When a wife_,
and a _son_, and a _kingdom he lost.
Next William the fourth, is
proclaimed Britain's king,
For between him and his brother two
deaths intervene.
No legitimate child did he leave in possession
Of
the Crown of old England, in right of succession;
So the diadem

passed to the youthful brow
Of his niece Queen Victoria, who honors
it now;
And for her we wish, as our rhyming we close,
A long,
peaceful reign--an old age of repose.
Written while on a visit at Brooklyn, N.Y., 1851.
TO MY DAUGHTER ELIZABETH.
Two flowers upon one parent stem
Together bloomed for many days.

At length a storm arose, and one
Was blighted, and cut down at
noon.
The other hath transplanted been,
And flowers fair_ as _herself hath
borne;
She too has felt the withering storm,
Her strength's decayed,
wasted her form.
May he who hears the mourner's prayer,
Renew her strength for years
to come;
Long may He our Lilly spare,
Long delay to call her
home.
But when the summons shall arrive
To bear this lovely flower away,

Again may she transplanted be
To blossom in eternity.
There may these sisters meet again,
Both freed from sorrow, sin, and
pain;
There with united voices raise,
In sweet accord their hymns of
praise;
Eternally his name t' adore,
Who died, yet lives forevermore.
Weston, Jan. 3, 1852.
ACROSTIC.
For thee, my son, a mother's earnest prayer
Rises to Heaven each day
from heart sincere,
Anxiously seeking what concerns thee most;

Not merely earthly good for thee she prays,
Knowledge, or wealth, or
fame, or length of days,
What shall these profit, if the soul be lost.

In this life we find alternate day and night,
Not always darkness, sure
not always light;
'Tis well it should be so, we're travellers here,

Home, that "sweet home," the Christian's place of rest,
Rises by