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A constant warfare was his reign on earth,
By sons fomented, who disgraced their birth ;
His Queen too, (tho'tis said much cause was hers
To doubt his faith, yet story often errs),
Join'd to oppose her husband and her lord,
And lift against his crown rebellion's sword !

BECKET, another curse of Henry's life,
Adds to the foes he found in sons and wife;
Becket, the kingdom's bane, the popedom's

With temper scarcely I relate the story,
A proof, since told ye in most homely fashion,
We can do nothing well, when in a passion.

A NEW LEGEND OF ST. THOMAS A BECKET. King Henry and the realm to spite,

St. Dunstan being dead and gone, Some evil genius sent his sprite,

In BECKET's form, to curb the throne.

Archbishop, Chancellor, and more

Than I can say in these brief rhymes, He gain'd all Dunstan gain'd before,

All WOLSEY got in after times.


And what return to HENRY made

This upstart, whọ deserv'd a rope ? Of dignity he form’d a trade,

And sold his master to the Pope !

Rebellion into exile sent

The meddling Monk, who yet return'd More honour'd, tho' much less content,

While treason in his heart still burn'd.

Repeated insult Henry drove

Some hint to drop in angry mood,*
Which caus’d, who heard their zeal to prove,

Unhappily, in Becket's blood.

* "Is there not one of the crew of lazy, cowardly knights, “ whom I maintain, that will rid me of this turbulent priest, “ who came to court but t'other day on a lame horse, with no" thing but his wallet behind him?" These words unfortunately animated to action Reginal Fitz-urse, William de Tracey, Hugh de Morvil, and Richard Brito.

Berington's Life of St. Thomas a Becket. The vulgar of Glocestershire have proverbially assigned a whimsical punishment for one of the families concerned in the assassination, thus :

“The Tracies, “ Have always the wind in their faces.” James Petit Andrews sportively adds, “ No very severe judg. ment on a summer's day.”

The The King to penance keen and sore,

And public ignominious pain, Submitted! ne'er was Prince before

So humble, nor is like to be again.

Had but the justice of the land,
For which too oft he'd given cause,

Struck Becket. with a legal hand,

Instead of shame the King had gain'd applause.*

Ireland and Wales and Scotland pay
Their homage to the King, whose prosp'rous day,

* His ill-bred haughtiness was such, that when the English prelates, in one body, represented to him the consequences which must inevitably attend his turbulent obstinacy, he answered only, "I hear you." Nothing could exceed his pride, or the splendor of his household. Before his advancement to the primacy he had been used to travel attended by two hundred knights and other gay domestics: eight waggons were in his suite, two of those bore his ale, three the furniture of his chapel, of his bed-chamber, and of his kitchen, and the other three carried provisions and necessaries. Twelve pack-horses bore his money, plate, &c. to each waggon was chained a fierce mastiff, and on each pack-horse there sat a baboon.

The following Epitaph, among others, was made on Becket:
Quis moritui? Prassul. Cur? Pro grege. Qualiter? Ense.
Quando? Natali. Quis locus? Ara dei.

Imitated ly J. P. Andrews.
Who's slain? The Primate. How? In dire affray.
Why? For his flock. When? On his natal day,
Say where? Twas where we kneel to h.eaven and pray.


Shortend by civil jars,

And most unnatural wars,
In unenjoy'd possession, dies away.

Henry, his son, was by his father crown’d,
As England's King, an early death he found.*
JEFFERY and William too, the latter died
A child,- the former fell in martial pride.
RICHARD and John succeeded to the throne
In turn, with shame the Muse makes known,
That Richard, who with Gallia’s King took part,
His sire subduing, broke a parent's heart.

A story told of Woodstock bow'r, I wis,
I might be deem'd neglectful did I miss,
Whether correct, or but by fancy penn’d,
My humble tale your leisure doth attend.

* At this coronation, young Henry, on his father's humility being pointed out, arrogantly repliel, “ A great honour truly, “ for the son of a King to be waited on by the son of an Earl !" At other times too, he requited his father's tenderness with most unfilial ingratitude, a sense of which, is said, at length to have broken his own heart. His body was carried towards Roan, but the clergy and citizens of Mans took it by force and interred it in their cathedral, near the Old Geoffry Plantagenet, whence it was ultimately taken and re-interred at Roan. King IIenry, in allusion to the ingratitude of his sons, had an allegorical picture painted for his palace at Windsor, representing an old eagle, his young ones fighting with him, and one scarcely fledged striving to peck out his eyes; the last he used to say was John, whom he loved best of all.




THE ARGUMENT. “ Henry the Second keepeth (with much care,) “ Lord Clifford's daughter, Rosamond the faire; And whilst his sonnes do Normandy invade “ He, forced to France, with wond'rous cost hath made “ A labyrinthe in Woodstocke, where unseene “ His love might lodge safe from his iealous queene."


EmBow'r'd sat a lover and lady so gay,

Where jas’mine with lilies were curld, They gaz’d on each other with tender delight; The warrior was HARRY PLANTAGENET hight,

And the lady the RosE OF THE WORLD.

Said the fair, “ when you follow the drum and

the fife, “ I shall wish by my side you had tarried, “For as soon as you leave me your termagant

wife, “ Will be certain to frighten me out of my life,” For, I'm sorry to say, he was married.


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