Domestic blifs, that dear, that fovereign joy, No more by moon-fhine to the nuptial bower "Ah! draw the veil," fhrill trembles thro' the air: The bridal torch her Evil angel wav'd, Far from the couch offended Prudence fled; The hinds are feen in arms, and glittering fpears And red with flaughter lies the harvest field. c Lord Darnly; the handsomest man of his age, but a worthless des bauchee of no abilities. d Her marriage with the Earl of Bothwell; an unprincipled politician of great addrefs. From Borthwick field, deserted and forlorn, Again the vision shifts the woeful scene; When Wisdom baffled owns th' attempt in vain, A prifon's ghaftly walls and grated cells No female eye her fickly bed to tend f! • When she was brought prifoner through the ftreets of Edinburgh, the fuffered almost every indignity which an enraged mob could offer. Her perfon was bedaubed with mire, and her ear infulted with every term of vulgar abufe. Even Buchanan when he relates these circumstances seems to drop a tear over them. f A fact. «And (9) "And could, oh Tudor, could thy breast retain "No foftening thought of what thy woes had been, "When thou, the heir of England's crown, in vain "Didst fue the mercy of a tyrant Queen ? from tender memory wake, "And could no pang "No pleading tear to drop for Mary's fake, "For Mary's fake, the heir of England's throne? "Alas! no pleading touch thy memory knew, Dry'd were the tears which for thyfelf had flow'd; "Dark politics alone engag'd thy view; "With female jealousy thy bofom glow'd. And fay, did Wisdom own thy ftern command ? "Did Honour wave his banner o'er the deed? "Ah!-Mary's fate thy name fhall ever brand, "And ever o'er her woes fhall Pity bleed. "The babe that prattled on his nurse's knee, An awful paufe enfues-With speaking eyes, And hands half rais'd, the guardian Wood Nymphs wait, While flow and fad the airy scenes arise, Stain'd with the laft deep woes of Mary's fate. With With dreary black hung round the hall appears, The clouded moon her dreary glimpses shed, And Mary's maids, a mournful train, pass by; Languid they walk, and liftlefs hang the head, And filent tears pace down from every eye. Serene and nobly mild appears the Queen, She fmiles on heaven, and bows the injur'd head; The ax is lifted-from the deathful scene The Guardians turn'd, and all the picture fled: It fled the Wood Nymphs o'er the distant lawn, The fovereign Dame her awful eye-balls roll'd, She cries," and Mary's meed my breast has fir'd, "On Tudor's throne her Sons fhall ever reign, 66 Age after age shall fee their flag unfurl'd, "With fovereign pride, where-ever roars the main, "Stream to the wind, and awe the trembling world. "Nor "Nor Britain's fceptre fhall they wield alone, Age after age through lengthening time shall fee "Her branching race on Europe's every throne, "And either India bend to them the knee. "But Tudor as a fruitless gourd fhall die; "I fee her death-fcene-On the lowly floor "Dreary fhe fits, cold Grief has glafs'd her eye, "And Anguish gnaws her till the breathes no more." But hark-loud howling thro' the midnight gloom, "And lo, where Time with brighten'd face ferene, "Falfhood unmask'd withdraws her ugly train, The |