LINES.WRITTEN ON THE ATTEMPTED ASSASSINATION OF THE QUEEN.20th July 1840.Fairas the summer in its joyous prime,Free from all thoughts of guile, all dread of ill,Unconscious that a traitor could existWithin her wide dominions, forth she came,Young, happy, unattended, save by him,The husband she had chosen from the world;All hearts her own—no other guard she wished—When ambushed treason aimed its coward blow,Which Heaven ordained should harmless pass her by,In mercy to the realms that own her sway.Ah! had the public foe, in hostile league,Come openly against her life and crown,The chivalry of England, not yet dead,Had promptly flown to arms, and formedAround her then a shield impenetrable,Her sacred person to defend, or die.From out of England's millions, only oneWas found, so void of all the feelings of a man,As point a deadly weapon at the breastOf England's pride—a woman and a Queen!Then the high bravery of her race was shown;She blenched not, quivered not, but sat erect;While, with the lion courage of the Saxon,Which both their hearts inspired, her consort threwHimself at once between her and the danger,To shield the life so dear to him and us.The loyal heart of Britain beat with joyAt their escape—the young, the loved, the true!Many and fervent were the prayers breathedTo Heaven, that they might live extended years,And each year, as it came, their happinessIncrease, and ours! Thus let the traitor's hopesFor ever end, thus fruitless be his aims—His snares recoil upon himself alone!How beautiful the trait of filial love,Of reverence daughterly, was then evinced,When, freed from danger from th' assassin's arm,She promptly to her mother hastes, herselfTo be the foremost bearer of the tidings,And, in her own particular person, bringThe proof and the assurance of her safety,Ere Rumour's tongue had magnified details!Ah! worthy of her people's love, is sheWho thus could show the veneration due,At such a time, to her who gave her being!The ways of men are in the hands of OneWho cannot err; the destinies of allOn earth, peasants as well as potentates,Are under His sole guardianship and guidance.A truism this; yet there are men who doubt,Nay, worse, deny it; even though instances,Occurring daily, show the constant careOf Providence o'er thoughtless, sinful men.How oft does evil o'er our head impend,And we not know it, till the danger's past!How oft, when evil comes, provided isA remedy, we know not how or whence!Ah! blind, and worse than blind, are they who doubt.The brutish beasts that roam the fields and woods,And never heard of God, or gospel truth,Of Christ and his salvation, better are,And wiser, than the Atheist and Sceptic.High is the sovereign's power, and great the swayWhich kings possess; but, higher, greater stillIs His, the King of Kings, who overrulesAll things for good to them who love his laws.Tyrants have had avengers, but the goodNeed fear no peril, dread no coming ill;Their trust in One who fails not, cannot fail;In whose hand is the breath of princes held,As much as meaner men's. To Him thy way commit.
Fairas the summer in its joyous prime,Free from all thoughts of guile, all dread of ill,Unconscious that a traitor could existWithin her wide dominions, forth she came,Young, happy, unattended, save by him,The husband she had chosen from the world;All hearts her own—no other guard she wished—When ambushed treason aimed its coward blow,Which Heaven ordained should harmless pass her by,In mercy to the realms that own her sway.Ah! had the public foe, in hostile league,Come openly against her life and crown,The chivalry of England, not yet dead,Had promptly flown to arms, and formedAround her then a shield impenetrable,Her sacred person to defend, or die.From out of England's millions, only oneWas found, so void of all the feelings of a man,As point a deadly weapon at the breastOf England's pride—a woman and a Queen!Then the high bravery of her race was shown;She blenched not, quivered not, but sat erect;While, with the lion courage of the Saxon,Which both their hearts inspired, her consort threwHimself at once between her and the danger,To shield the life so dear to him and us.The loyal heart of Britain beat with joyAt their escape—the young, the loved, the true!Many and fervent were the prayers breathedTo Heaven, that they might live extended years,And each year, as it came, their happinessIncrease, and ours! Thus let the traitor's hopesFor ever end, thus fruitless be his aims—His snares recoil upon himself alone!How beautiful the trait of filial love,Of reverence daughterly, was then evinced,When, freed from danger from th' assassin's arm,She promptly to her mother hastes, herselfTo be the foremost bearer of the tidings,And, in her own particular person, bringThe proof and the assurance of her safety,Ere Rumour's tongue had magnified details!Ah! worthy of her people's love, is sheWho thus could show the veneration due,At such a time, to her who gave her being!The ways of men are in the hands of OneWho cannot err; the destinies of allOn earth, peasants as well as potentates,Are under His sole guardianship and guidance.A truism this; yet there are men who doubt,Nay, worse, deny it; even though instances,Occurring daily, show the constant careOf Providence o'er thoughtless, sinful men.How oft does evil o'er our head impend,And we not know it, till the danger's past!How oft, when evil comes, provided isA remedy, we know not how or whence!Ah! blind, and worse than blind, are they who doubt.The brutish beasts that roam the fields and woods,And never heard of God, or gospel truth,Of Christ and his salvation, better are,And wiser, than the Atheist and Sceptic.High is the sovereign's power, and great the swayWhich kings possess; but, higher, greater stillIs His, the King of Kings, who overrulesAll things for good to them who love his laws.Tyrants have had avengers, but the goodNeed fear no peril, dread no coming ill;Their trust in One who fails not, cannot fail;In whose hand is the breath of princes held,As much as meaner men's. To Him thy way commit.
Fairas the summer in its joyous prime,Free from all thoughts of guile, all dread of ill,Unconscious that a traitor could existWithin her wide dominions, forth she came,Young, happy, unattended, save by him,The husband she had chosen from the world;All hearts her own—no other guard she wished—When ambushed treason aimed its coward blow,Which Heaven ordained should harmless pass her by,In mercy to the realms that own her sway.Ah! had the public foe, in hostile league,Come openly against her life and crown,The chivalry of England, not yet dead,Had promptly flown to arms, and formedAround her then a shield impenetrable,Her sacred person to defend, or die.From out of England's millions, only oneWas found, so void of all the feelings of a man,As point a deadly weapon at the breastOf England's pride—a woman and a Queen!Then the high bravery of her race was shown;She blenched not, quivered not, but sat erect;While, with the lion courage of the Saxon,Which both their hearts inspired, her consort threwHimself at once between her and the danger,To shield the life so dear to him and us.The loyal heart of Britain beat with joyAt their escape—the young, the loved, the true!Many and fervent were the prayers breathedTo Heaven, that they might live extended years,And each year, as it came, their happinessIncrease, and ours! Thus let the traitor's hopesFor ever end, thus fruitless be his aims—His snares recoil upon himself alone!How beautiful the trait of filial love,Of reverence daughterly, was then evinced,When, freed from danger from th' assassin's arm,She promptly to her mother hastes, herselfTo be the foremost bearer of the tidings,And, in her own particular person, bringThe proof and the assurance of her safety,Ere Rumour's tongue had magnified details!Ah! worthy of her people's love, is sheWho thus could show the veneration due,At such a time, to her who gave her being!The ways of men are in the hands of OneWho cannot err; the destinies of allOn earth, peasants as well as potentates,Are under His sole guardianship and guidance.A truism this; yet there are men who doubt,Nay, worse, deny it; even though instances,Occurring daily, show the constant careOf Providence o'er thoughtless, sinful men.How oft does evil o'er our head impend,And we not know it, till the danger's past!How oft, when evil comes, provided isA remedy, we know not how or whence!Ah! blind, and worse than blind, are they who doubt.The brutish beasts that roam the fields and woods,And never heard of God, or gospel truth,Of Christ and his salvation, better are,And wiser, than the Atheist and Sceptic.High is the sovereign's power, and great the swayWhich kings possess; but, higher, greater stillIs His, the King of Kings, who overrulesAll things for good to them who love his laws.Tyrants have had avengers, but the goodNeed fear no peril, dread no coming ill;Their trust in One who fails not, cannot fail;In whose hand is the breath of princes held,As much as meaner men's. To Him thy way commit.
Fairas the summer in its joyous prime,Free from all thoughts of guile, all dread of ill,Unconscious that a traitor could existWithin her wide dominions, forth she came,Young, happy, unattended, save by him,The husband she had chosen from the world;All hearts her own—no other guard she wished—When ambushed treason aimed its coward blow,Which Heaven ordained should harmless pass her by,In mercy to the realms that own her sway.
Fairas the summer in its joyous prime,
Free from all thoughts of guile, all dread of ill,
Unconscious that a traitor could exist
Within her wide dominions, forth she came,
Young, happy, unattended, save by him,
The husband she had chosen from the world;
All hearts her own—no other guard she wished—
When ambushed treason aimed its coward blow,
Which Heaven ordained should harmless pass her by,
In mercy to the realms that own her sway.
Ah! had the public foe, in hostile league,Come openly against her life and crown,The chivalry of England, not yet dead,Had promptly flown to arms, and formedAround her then a shield impenetrable,Her sacred person to defend, or die.From out of England's millions, only oneWas found, so void of all the feelings of a man,As point a deadly weapon at the breastOf England's pride—a woman and a Queen!Then the high bravery of her race was shown;She blenched not, quivered not, but sat erect;While, with the lion courage of the Saxon,Which both their hearts inspired, her consort threwHimself at once between her and the danger,To shield the life so dear to him and us.
Ah! had the public foe, in hostile league,
Come openly against her life and crown,
The chivalry of England, not yet dead,
Had promptly flown to arms, and formed
Around her then a shield impenetrable,
Her sacred person to defend, or die.
From out of England's millions, only one
Was found, so void of all the feelings of a man,
As point a deadly weapon at the breast
Of England's pride—a woman and a Queen!
Then the high bravery of her race was shown;
She blenched not, quivered not, but sat erect;
While, with the lion courage of the Saxon,
Which both their hearts inspired, her consort threw
Himself at once between her and the danger,
To shield the life so dear to him and us.
The loyal heart of Britain beat with joyAt their escape—the young, the loved, the true!Many and fervent were the prayers breathedTo Heaven, that they might live extended years,And each year, as it came, their happinessIncrease, and ours! Thus let the traitor's hopesFor ever end, thus fruitless be his aims—His snares recoil upon himself alone!
The loyal heart of Britain beat with joy
At their escape—the young, the loved, the true!
Many and fervent were the prayers breathed
To Heaven, that they might live extended years,
And each year, as it came, their happiness
Increase, and ours! Thus let the traitor's hopes
For ever end, thus fruitless be his aims—
His snares recoil upon himself alone!
How beautiful the trait of filial love,Of reverence daughterly, was then evinced,When, freed from danger from th' assassin's arm,She promptly to her mother hastes, herselfTo be the foremost bearer of the tidings,And, in her own particular person, bringThe proof and the assurance of her safety,Ere Rumour's tongue had magnified details!Ah! worthy of her people's love, is sheWho thus could show the veneration due,At such a time, to her who gave her being!
How beautiful the trait of filial love,
Of reverence daughterly, was then evinced,
When, freed from danger from th' assassin's arm,
She promptly to her mother hastes, herself
To be the foremost bearer of the tidings,
And, in her own particular person, bring
The proof and the assurance of her safety,
Ere Rumour's tongue had magnified details!
Ah! worthy of her people's love, is she
Who thus could show the veneration due,
At such a time, to her who gave her being!
The ways of men are in the hands of OneWho cannot err; the destinies of allOn earth, peasants as well as potentates,Are under His sole guardianship and guidance.A truism this; yet there are men who doubt,Nay, worse, deny it; even though instances,Occurring daily, show the constant careOf Providence o'er thoughtless, sinful men.
The ways of men are in the hands of One
Who cannot err; the destinies of all
On earth, peasants as well as potentates,
Are under His sole guardianship and guidance.
A truism this; yet there are men who doubt,
Nay, worse, deny it; even though instances,
Occurring daily, show the constant care
Of Providence o'er thoughtless, sinful men.
How oft does evil o'er our head impend,And we not know it, till the danger's past!How oft, when evil comes, provided isA remedy, we know not how or whence!Ah! blind, and worse than blind, are they who doubt.The brutish beasts that roam the fields and woods,And never heard of God, or gospel truth,Of Christ and his salvation, better are,And wiser, than the Atheist and Sceptic.
How oft does evil o'er our head impend,
And we not know it, till the danger's past!
How oft, when evil comes, provided is
A remedy, we know not how or whence!
Ah! blind, and worse than blind, are they who doubt.
The brutish beasts that roam the fields and woods,
And never heard of God, or gospel truth,
Of Christ and his salvation, better are,
And wiser, than the Atheist and Sceptic.
High is the sovereign's power, and great the swayWhich kings possess; but, higher, greater stillIs His, the King of Kings, who overrulesAll things for good to them who love his laws.
High is the sovereign's power, and great the sway
Which kings possess; but, higher, greater still
Is His, the King of Kings, who overrules
All things for good to them who love his laws.
Tyrants have had avengers, but the goodNeed fear no peril, dread no coming ill;Their trust in One who fails not, cannot fail;In whose hand is the breath of princes held,As much as meaner men's. To Him thy way commit.
Tyrants have had avengers, but the good
Need fear no peril, dread no coming ill;
Their trust in One who fails not, cannot fail;
In whose hand is the breath of princes held,
As much as meaner men's. To Him thy way commit.