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

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 faith to view when most distressed:?Oh! this life past--mayst thou find entrance there.
Perplexed, distressed, sick, or by friends betrayed,?Beset with snares, deprived of human aid,?In all thy sorrows whatsoe'er they be,?Go to the Saviour,