MARIE ANTOINETTE. Break not O Woman's heart, but still endure! Methought I sate upon a lofty hill, And watched the waves that softly kissed its side, Of that fair summer sea, there seemed to glide But scarce it moved, for all the winds were lulled to rest. Upon the deck stood many a noble form, Man in his pride of strength and woman fair; And one far lovelier than all else was there; But as they danced secure, above the deep Of the pent winds, e'er with resistless force Like some fell host of ruin they speed their victor course. They come and all is night that was so fair! Still dauntless mid the tempest's wild unrest She stands;-'though round the hungry waters leap, Whelm that frail bark and her in the remorseless deep. My dream is gone! yet 'twas not all a dream, Beauty and purity throned on thy brow: What visioned form could beam so bright so fair as thou? Fair, in a world that seemed all fair, and gay By paths all gay with flowers and mirth, she came; And Paris welcomed her with fond acclaim, A daughter worthy of Theresa's name. Be worthy of thy olden knightly fame, Should one so young and fair have cause to sigh, Or ever tear bedim the brightness of her eye? Oh surely from the gentle heaven above Vain hope! in our sad world all lovely things Stands in heroic mien, in all a Queen confest. "Point d'enfants," the cry of the mob at Versailles.-CARLYLE, vol. i., p. 221. |