Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1900.djvu/791

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THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY, LORD MACAULAY

1800-1859


657. A Jacobite's Epitaph

To my true king I offer'd free from stain
Courage and faith; vain faith, and courage vain.
For him I threw lands, honours, wealth, away,
And one dear hope, that was more prized than they.
For him I languished in a foreign clime,
Gray-hair'd with sorrow in my manhood's prime;
Heard on Lavernia Scargill's whispering trees,
And pined by Arno for my lovelier Tees;
Beheld each night my home in fever'd sleep,
Each morning started from the dream to weep;
Till God, who saw me tried too sorely, gave
The resting-place I ask'd, an early grave.
O thou, whom chance leads to this nameless stone,
From that proud country which was once mine own,
By those white cliffs I never more must see,
By that dear language which I spake like thee,
Forget all feuds, and shed one English tear
O'er English dust. A broken heart lies here.



WILLIAM BARNES

1801-1886


658. Mater Dolorosa

I'd a dream to-night
  As I fell asleep,
O! the touching sight
  Makes me still to weep: