Page:Zinzendorff and Other Poems.pdf/109

Rh At length her quivering hand unclos'd,    And lo! a ring was there, Of rare and radiant gems compos'd,    Such as a king might wear.

"He, for whose hand this ring was meet,    I dare not name his name Once bade me lay it at your feet     To spare the scaffold's shame; But I—and be my sin reveal'd,     And my repentance keen, In bitter hate the pledge conceal'd,     Oh pardon! gracious Queen!"

What might that jewel'd toy restore Within the royal heart? Did buried love revive once more In that convulsive start? But none may scan her spirit's frame As that fond gift she view'd, While back her idol Essex came From his dark grave of blood!

Again that noble form appear'd    In homage at her feet, Again his manly voice she heard In murmur'd flattery sweet; His warm lips press the fatal ring, Bright tears suffuse his eye, Broke she the promise of a king? And did that favorite die?

Down, Fancy down! her cheek is pale! Her haughty soul doth quake,