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There stood proud forms around his throne,

The stately and the brave,
But which could fill the place of one,

That one beneath the wave?
Before him pass'd the young and fair,

In pleasure's reckless train, But seas dash'd o'er his son's bright hair

-He never smiled again!

He sat where festal bowls went round;

He heard the minstrel sing,
He saw the Tourney's victor crown’d,

Amidst the knightly ring :
A murmur of the restless deep

Was blent with every strain,
A voice of winds that would not sleep-

-He never smiled again!

Hearts, in that time, closed o'er the trace

Of vows once fondly pour’d,
And strangers took the kinsman's place

At many a joyous board ;

Graves, which true love had bathed with tears,

Were left to Heaven's bright rain, Fresh hopes were born for other years—

-He never smiled again !



The body of Henry the Second lay in state in the of Fon: tevraud, where it was visited by Richard Cæur-de-Lion, who, on beholding it, was struck with horror and remorse, and bitterly reproached himself for that rebellious conduct which had been the means of bringing his father to an untimely grave.

Torches were blazing clear,

Hymns pealing deep and slow,
Where a king lay stately on his bier,

In the church of Fontevraud.
Banners of battle o'er him hung,

And warriors slept beneath,
And light, as noon's broad light, was fung

On the settled face of death.

On the settled face of death

A strong and ruddy glare, Though dimm’d at times by the censer's breath,

Yet it fell still brightest there : As if each deeply-furrow'd trace

Of earthly years to show,-Alas! that sceptred mortal's race

Had surely closed in woe!

The marble floor was swept

By many a long dark stole,
As the kneeling priests round him that slept,

Sang mass for the parted soul ;
And solemn were the strains they pour'd

Through the stillness of the night,
With the cross above, and the crown and sword,

And the silent king in sight.

There was heard a heavy clang

As of steel-girt men the tread,
And the tombs and the hollow pavement rang

With a sounding thrill of dread;

And the holy chant was hush'd awhile,

As by the torch's flame,
A gleam of arms, up the sweeping aisle,

With a mail-clad leader came.

He came with haughty look,

An eagle-glance and clear,
But his proud heart through its breast-plate shook,

When he stood beside the bier !
He stood there still with a drooping brow,

And clasp'd hands o'er it raised ;-
For his father lay before him low,

It was Caur-de-Lion gazed !

And silently he strove

With the workings of his breast,
- But there's more in late repentant love

Than steel may keep suppress'd!
And his tears brake forth, at last, like rain-

-Men held their breath in awe,
For his face was seen by his warrior-train,

And he reck’d not that they saw.

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