And what within is richly shrined?
A sculptured woman's form,
Lovely, in perfect rest reclined,
As one beyond the storm :

Yet not of death, but slumber, lies
The solemn sweetness on those eyes.

The folded hands, the calm pure face,
The mantle's quiet flow,
The gentle yet majestic grace

Throned on the matron brow;

These, in that scene of tender gloom,
With a still glory robe the tomb.

There stands an eagle, at the feet
Of the fair image wrought;
A kingly emblem -not unmeet
To wake yet deeper thought:

She whose high heart finds rest below
Was royal in her birth and woe.

There are pale garlands hung above,

Of dying scent and hue;

She was a mother-in her love

How sorrowfully true!

Oh! hallowed long be every leaf,

The record of her children's grief!

She saw their birthright's warrior-crown

Of olden glory spoiled,

The standard of their sires borne down,

The shield's bright blazon soiled :

THE QUEEN OF PRUSSIA'S TOMB

She met the tempest meekly brave,
Then turned o'erwearied to the grave.

She slumbered: but it came-it came,
Her land's redeeming hour,
With the glad shout, and signal flame
Sent on from tower to tower.

Fast through the realm a spirit moved--
'Twas hers, the lofty and the loved!

Then was her name a note that rung
To rouse bold hearts from sleep;
Her memory, as a banner flung
Forth by the Baltic deep;
Her grief, a bitter vial poured

To sanctify the avenger's sword.

And the crowned eagle spread again

His pinion to the sun;

And the strong land shook off its chain-
So was the triumph won!

But woe for earth, where sorrow's tone

Still blends with victory's-She was gone!

87

THE MEMORIAL PILLAR

[ON the road-side, between Penrith and Appleby, stands a small pillar, with this inscription:-"This pillar was erected in the year 1656, by Ann, Countess-Dowager of Pembroke, for a memorial of her last parting, in this place, with her good and pious mother, Margaret, Countess-Dowager of Cumberland, on the 2d April 1616."-See Notes to the Pleasures of Memory.]

MOTHER and child! whose blending tears

Have sanctified the place,

Where, to the love of many years,

Was given one last embrace-
Oh! ye have shrined a spell of power
Deep in your record of that hour!

A spell to waken solemn thought-
A still, small under-tone,

That calls back days of childhood, fraught
With many a treasure gone;

And smites, perchance, the hidden source,
Though long untroubled-of remorse.

For who, that gazes on the stone

Which marks your parting spot,

THE MEMORIAL PILLAR

Who but a mother's love hath known

The one love changing not!

Alas! and haply learned its worth

First with the sound of "Earth to earth!"

But thou, high-hearted daughter! thou,
O'er whose bright honoured head
Blessings and tears of holiest flow
E'en here were fondly shed--
Thou from the passion of thy grief,
In its full burst, couldst draw relief.

For, oh though painful be the excess,
The might wherewith it swells,
In nature's fount no bitterness

Of nature's mingling dwells;

And thou hadst not, by wrong or pride,
Poisoned the free and healthful tide.

But didst thou meet the face no more
Which thy young heart first knew!
And all- -was all in this world o'er

With ties thus close and true?
It was! On earth no other eye
Could give thee back thine infancy.

No other voice could pierce the maze
Where, deep within thy breast,
The sounds and dreams of other days
With memory lay at rest;

No other smile to thee could bring
A gladdening, like the breath of spring.

Yet, while thy place of weeping still
Its lone memorial keeps,

While on thy name, midst wood and hill,

The quiet sunshine sleeps,

And touches, in each graven line,

Of reverential thought a sign;

Can I, while yet these tokens wear
The impress of the dead,

Think of the love embodied there
As of a vision fled ?

A perished thing, the joy and flower
And glory of one earthly hour?

Not so I will not bow me so
To thoughts that breathe despair!
A loftier faith we need below,

Life's farewell words to bear.

Mother and child! your tears are pastSurely your hearts have met at last.