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    LINES TO THE HON.GEORGE L KNOX   Table of Contents     AN OFFERING.

Bibb, Eloise
Poems

- ANNE BOLEYN.


ANNE BOLEYN.


Lost! lost! lost!
The famed and gracious Anne is no more,
Her sceptre broken, now her power is o'er,
Ye judges, who, to-day pronounced my doom
With solemn words that filled my soul with
gloom.
And Henry, king with deeds so just and
and canny,
Come thou, and tell me if this still be Anne.
This sunken cheek, this tearful eye, this
frame
So withered in its woe, cans't be the same?
My maidens, who, with skillful touch and
care,
Have looped with jewels these locks of
silken hair,
And smiled with pleasure at my face so fair,
When through the mirror they saw it reflected
there,
Say, tell me if a likeness can be seen
In this poor wasted frame, to England's
queen.
Ah, Wolsey, Yes; thy fate was like to mine,
I,too, did rise, but now, my lot is thine.
raster
103

At once arrayed in pomp, endowed with
power,
Now, fickle fortune assigns to me the tower.
Will naught but blood e'er quench king
Henry's thirst?
Naught but revenge with which his brain is
curst?
Base villain! though thou decked in robes
of state,
Thy heart is like to Lucifer's in hate!
Thou dwell'st beneath a canopy of light
With soul in lust enshrouded, black as night,

And yet this man, so base, so weak, so vain,
Great heaven! this poor heart could love
again.
Could kneel with 'raptured words and tearful
prayer;
Bid him clasp me to his heart, and linger
there.
Yes, he was loving, kind, and good to me,
Six years I knew naught but felicity,
And gratitude, like some emitted spark,
Awoke the fire within my woman's heart.

My babe, Elizabeth, he loved the child;
raster
104
Oft have I seen his countenance grow mild
Whene'er in infant voice she lisped his
name;
In tones like an Ĉolian harp it came.
But why this change! How turned his love
to ire?
Whence comes this wrath like some outburst
of here?
False! false! O God! the light has dawned
at last;
I know now why his tenderness has passed!

Ah! I can see why he thus thinks me site!
He basks within another's 'switching smile;
'Tis Jane Seymour, my fair and gifted maid
Has made upon his heart this sudden raid.
O Father! and 'tis she will reign the queen,
When I on earth, no more will e'er be seen.
She'll wear this crown I prize more than my
life,
She holds his heart, 'tis she he'll make his
wife.

O heaven! for an arm of Samson's strength,
That I might burst these doors of wondrous
length,
raster
105
And flee this tower; sweet freedom breathe
again,--
Ah! I would seek this treasured one,-- and
then
This dagger thrust into her siren heart.
And see her writhe in pain from its keen
smart.
Then could I smile, and know forevermore,
Her fascinations and her smiles were o'er!

Delusion vain! these thoughts but poison
peace,
And rack the soul with storms that never
cease.
Lost! lost! lost! I've played the game of
chance, and lost.
And O ye destinies! what it has cost
To brain, and heart, and soul! and now I
die,
Scorned, and derived, and loathed by every
eye.
O thou, who lov'st the paths of home and
power,
Know thou the darkness of this dreadful
hour
raster
106

Will yet be thine! Oh, quench this fearful
thirst,
Else thy life, too, with madness will be crust.
Thou'lt live to know thy hopes and dreams
are o'er,
And thou wilt fall, as I, to rise no more.
raster
107

    LINES TO THE HON.GEORGE L KNOX   Table of Contents     AN OFFERING.