Poems (Acton)/Anna Boleyn's Farewell to the Princess Elizabeth, on the Morning of her Execution
ANNA BOLEYN'S FAREWELL TO THE PRINCESS ELIZABETH, ON THE MORNING OF HER EXECUTION.
Mine own! my cherished one! a breaking heart,
'Mid its last agonies, still clings to thee!
Doomed from a mother's love so soon to part,
And bow thy young bright form to misery.
'Mid its last agonies, still clings to thee!
Doomed from a mother's love so soon to part,
And bow thy young bright form to misery.
Thou little reck'st, mine infant, that one hour
Will leave thee friendless, desolate; when thou
Wilt have no shelter from the storms which low'r
Above thy guiltless and unconscious brow!
Will leave thee friendless, desolate; when thou
Wilt have no shelter from the storms which low'r
Above thy guiltless and unconscious brow!
Thou wilt not have, ere long, my little one,
A mother's heart to shield as mine has done;
Thou wilt be left unheeded and alone—
I shall be silent, and my race be run.
A mother's heart to shield as mine has done;
Thou wilt be left unheeded and alone—
I shall be silent, and my race be run.
Yet thou art happy, for thou canst not know
That dark'ning clouds shall overcast thy sky;
Thy fair young cheek is radiant with the glow
Of childhood's joy flung o'er thee from on high.
That dark'ning clouds shall overcast thy sky;
Thy fair young cheek is radiant with the glow
Of childhood's joy flung o'er thee from on high.
Brightest! most innocent! Thy future fate
Is yet unwritten! Thou hast yet to learn
That what thou deemest love may be but hate—
That sunny smiles can change to frowns as stern.
Is yet unwritten! Thou hast yet to learn
That what thou deemest love may be but hate—
That sunny smiles can change to frowns as stern.
Ah! Fare thee well! I feel no pangs, no fears,
Save for the helpless, injured one I leave;
I can but give thee now, my child, these tears,
Wrung from a heart too early taught to grieve!
Save for the helpless, injured one I leave;
I can but give thee now, my child, these tears,
Wrung from a heart too early taught to grieve!
I have but reaped the doom my vain heart sowed:
I had no tears when Catherine bowed low
To pray for mercy, even as do I
Crave, in mine agony, such mercy now!
I had no tears when Catherine bowed low
To pray for mercy, even as do I
Crave, in mine agony, such mercy now!
Once more—Farewell! my treasured one; may He,
To whose blest hand I trust thee, guide thy way
Through this wide world of woe and misery,
Casting around thy path an angel's ray;
To whose blest hand I trust thee, guide thy way
Through this wide world of woe and misery,
Casting around thy path an angel's ray;
Granting a guiltless mother's parting prayer—
Not that the mockery of power be thine,
But that thy heart may be untouched by care,
Ever unconscious of a fate like mine!
R. A.
Not that the mockery of power be thine,
But that thy heart may be untouched by care,
Ever unconscious of a fate like mine!
R. A.