ON THE
ECUTION OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS.
Touch not the heart, for Sorrow's voice
Will mingle in the chorus wild;
When Scotland weeps, canst thou rejoice?
No: rather mourn her murdered child.
Will mingle in the chorus wild;
When Scotland weeps, canst thou rejoice?
No: rather mourn her murdered child.
Sing how on Carberry's mount of blood,
'Mid foes exulting in her doom,
The captive Mary fearless stood,
A helpless victim for the tomb.
'Mid foes exulting in her doom,
The captive Mary fearless stood,
A helpless victim for the tomb.
Justice and Mercy, 'frighted, fled,
And shrouded was Hope's beacon blaze,
When, like a lamb to slaughter led,
Poor Mary met her murderers' gaze.
And shrouded was Hope's beacon blaze,
When, like a lamb to slaughter led,
Poor Mary met her murderers' gaze.
Calm was her eye as yon dark lake,
And changed her once angelic form;
No sigh was heard the pause to break,
That awful pause before the storm.
And changed her once angelic form;
No sigh was heard the pause to break,
That awful pause before the storm.
