Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/174

174 As if her spirit equally contemn'd Both life and death?—Is this the widow'd queen Who for her people, and her children's rights, Her simple shelter, and her husband's tomb Stood boldly forth?—Her foes admiring mark Her high demeanour, and with deference ask For her request.—"Due treatment to a queen, And to a woman's honour."— It would seem As if those lips by Nature had been taught The accent of command.—But when she saw That in her victor's breasts compassion wrought, A gentle tone of soft entreaty woke,— "I ask my children's life."— —Ah!—there spoke forth Her woman's nature.—The demand was first What haughty Philip's representative, A nation's guardian, and a warrior-queen, Was bound to stipulate.—That boon obtain'd, Affection urged its claim,—and rushing brought The first, last wish of every mother's heart,— Her children.— —Spirits of the brave and free!— Sons of my native state!—Ye circled round That queen in her adversity.—High souls!— In warfare lions,—but in pity mild As the shorn lamb;—ye gave that sacred boon Which Rome, in all her glory, sternly snatch'd From Boadicea,—freedom. But to what Must she return?—What!—but a ruin'd realm,—