Page:Oxford Book of English Verse 1250-1918.djvu/816

 THOMAS BABINGTON MACAULAY, LORD MACAULAY

666 A Jacobite's Eptafh

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 ScargilPs whispering trees, And pined by Arno for my lovelier Tecs, 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 ojwn, 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 667 Mater Dolorosa

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

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