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 PR5159.P3L9 
 
 A loyal garland; from tributary thoughts. 
 
 3 1924 013 533 843 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tiiis bool< is in 
 tine Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924013533843 
 
FROM TRIBUTARY THOUGHTS. 
 
 By CLARA PAYNE. 
 
 'FAITHFUL AND LOYAL." 
 
 LONDON : 
 
 HAMILTON, ADAMS & CO., PATEENOSTEE EOW. 
 
 All Rights Resei-ved. 
 C0 
 
Pr.EFAOE. 
 
 The Writer of the following pages trusts she may 
 claim the indulgence and sympathy of the benevolent 
 Reader. Having met with a sad accident,* which has 
 confined her to her couch for nearly twelve months, 
 she has endeavoured to alleviate her sufferings by con- 
 tinuing her literary occupations, and thus compiled the 
 little volume of " Loyal Tributes," many of which were 
 written in early youth. At the same time, the writer 
 solicits pardon of those authors from whose private 
 letters she h !s taken the liberty of making extracts in 
 order to enhance the favourable reception of the "little 
 stranger," and place her " Loyal Garland" beyond the 
 reach of the cold blast of censure and blame. 
 
 C. P. 
 
 Brynithon Cottage, 
 
 Radnorshire., 
 
 Wales. 
 
 A broken leg. 
 
®0 tjjj Obiiiic. 
 
 Far be it from fond woman to assume, 
 
 Or man's prerogatives in aught assume ; 
 
 Let man his noble intellect impart, 
 
 And woman keep her empire o'er the heart. 
 
 Yet, what is poetry 1 It is to feel 
 
 Deep thoughts whose images we would reveal, 
 
 To worship Grod, in " nature's work" sublime, 
 
 To love the " beautiful" — Is this a crime 1 
 
 If nought neglecting, woman should rehearse, 
 
 And range her feeble essay into verse, 
 
 Then, generous critic ! to her faults forbear ; 
 
 Oh ! with the sensitive be not severe. 
 
 To thee, aU trusting, are her "thoughts" con- 
 
 sign'd. 
 Be thou her lenient judge, her mentor, friend, 
 
 September, 1842. 
 
CON! ENTS. 
 
 A Loyal Tribute ... ... ... ... 5 
 
 Impromptu ... ... ... ... 6 
 
 A Birthday Address ... ... ... ... 7 
 
 Song ... ... ... ... 8 
 
 On Her Majesty's interesting visit to Fort Pitt ... 9 
 
 Lines on the Princess Elizabeth's Monument t t 
 
 The Visit to the Sick .. ... ... 13 
 
 Tribute to the memory of Prince Albert ... 14 
 
 Epithalamium . . ... ... ... 16 
 
 "Our National Hymn" ... ... ... 18 
 
 The Hero of Scinde ... ... ... ... 19 
 
 Impromptu .. ... ... ... 21 
 
 Lines written on hearing that the character of H. R. 
 
 H. Prince Albert had been most unjustly assailed 23 
 
 To H. R. H. Princess Frederick William ... 25 
 
 Beautiful May ... ... ... ... 26 
 
 Our Native Village Green ... ... ... 27 
 
 Welcome ... ... ... ... 29 
 
 Impromptu ... ... ... ... 33 
 
 H. R. H. Prince Alfred ... ... ... 35 
 
 Lines on the attempt of Her Majesty's life ... 37 
 
 A welcome to May ... ... ... 38 
 
 The Hero Brothers ... ... ... 39 
 
 The Irish Cabin ... ... ... 41 
 
 The Sepulchral Coronal ... ... ... 43 
 
 A Tribute to the memory of the illustrious Schiller 45 
 
 The Recognition ... ... ... 47 
 
 A sa Majeste la Reine Victoria ... ... 49 
 
1^ i0pl %xMk. 
 
 To Her mod Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria. 
 
 Once more in loveliness doth Spring appear, 
 
 And nature with her joyous visage cheer ; 
 
 The leaves unfolding 'neath her genial smile, 
 
 Proclaims "stern Winter" banished from the Isle. 
 
 Once more, lo ! Flora decks her verdant bowers. 
 
 Once more she calls to bloom earth's choicest 
 flowers. 
 
 All things seemed rob'd in majesty serene. 
 
 While proudly Britain hails the festive scene. 
 
 Art cannot equal nature's grand display, 
 
 To herald in our Sov'reign's natal day. 
 
 Accept, good Queen, the tribute thus sincere. 
 
 The love and homage thee thy subjects bear 
 
 No FiTTEE OPF'niisrGS can they now assign 
 
 Than hearts devoted unto thee and thine. 
 
 1844. 
 
IMPROMPTU. 
 
 h\ tlje eloi-onation of 'gcir fUogt ®raciottS ittajtjits 
 ©neen 13ittoria. 
 
 Banish " dull care" away ■with sadness, 
 
 Let each loyal heart with rapture beat ; 
 Be this to all a day of gladness. 
 
 With smiles of joy our Queen we'll greet. 
 Lo ! now Victoria wears the crown, 
 
 This day old Britain's sceptre sways. 
 Oh ! ever this be her renown. 
 
 For well she merits England's praise : 
 Praise, let her noble mother share, 
 
 Proud must that loving mother be ; 
 Eepaid, tenfold, is all her care. 
 
 In Britain's Queen her child to see. 
 Then while applauding shouts rejoice, 
 
 Let none with gloom be seen. 
 We, too, will join, with heart and voice, 
 
 " God save our noble QueeiL" 
 
 Jersey, June 28, 1838. 
 
.^ ^irtkbaB jP^bbuss. 
 
 To Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria. 
 
 Most Gracious Queen, on this tliy natal day, 
 A grateful nation would her homage pay ; 
 Deign to accept her offerings for thy shrine. 
 Pure hearts devoted unto thee and thine ; 
 And oh ! may each return of joyous Spring 
 "With this priz'd day her choicest blessings bring. 
 Still may thy path with earth's most lovely 
 
 flowers 
 Be strew' d, as now, to hail the coming hours. 
 Still, thy loyal subjects with fresh fervour pray. 
 That through life's ills kind heaven may be thy 
 
 stay; 
 While all, with one accord, assay to prove. 
 The deep-felt ardour of a nation's love. 
 Long, Gracious Queen, illustrious may'st thou be, 
 And happiness eternal wait on thee. 
 
 Jersey, May, 1845, 
 
8 
 
 
 (AN IMPROMPTU.) 
 
 
 THE 
 
 ROYAL WEDDING. 
 
 " God save the Queen." 
 
 Heee 
 
 s to Victoria, Britannia's Pride ! 
 
 Here's 
 
 > to the 
 
 Royal and beautiful Bride ! 
 
 Here's to old England's youthful Queen, 
 
 Come, Britons, join your Country's psean; 
 
 And Honour, and Glory, and Blessing be hers. 
 
 Then fill high the glass, 'midst loyalty's cheers. 
 
 Here's to Prince Albert with heartfelt voice. 
 
 We'll welcome our Sovereign's Regal choice. 
 
 Her Noble Consort, long may he share 
 In all her Happiness, all her Care — 
 
 Then fiU high the glass, be each Briton's toast, 
 
 ViCTOPJA and Albeet, our Country's boast! 
 
 Jersey, Fee. io, 1840. 
 
0tt 3§er iEajestD'0 intcrcstmg ^isit to Jort 
 iitt. 
 
 " 'Where Duty went, she went — with Justice went, 
 And went with Meekness, Charity, and Love." 
 
 rollok. 
 
 In History's page trac'd in characters bright, 
 'Midst the horrors of war will appear, 
 
 How the Queen of our isles as an "angel of light," 
 Did the hearts of her people endear. 
 
 A gem in her diadem unrivall'd shines. 
 
 And its lustre encircles her crown. 
 More dazzling than those of Golconda's fam'd 
 mines. 
 
 Which have fiU'd all the world with renown. 
 
 The lowly in spirit — they only are great, 
 
 And a halo is shed o'er her name. 
 When leaving the pomp and the pageant of state, 
 
 To the sick and the suft'riag she came. 
 
 To visit her poor wounded soldiers, behold ! 
 
 In their hospital wards she is seen ; 
 Exchanging kind words with those heroes so bold. 
 
 What a beautiful trait in our Queen. 
 
10 
 
 Her voice falls as balm on each noble heart, 
 
 All witness the interest she feels ; 
 And the touching emotion her questions impart, 
 
 The sufferer e'en scarcely conceals. 
 
 To their children's children these heroic men 
 Years hence of their battles will tell. 
 
 And with pride through each village, and hamlet, 
 and glen, 
 On their Queen's honour'd visit will dwell. 
 
 Victoria be bless'd in her mission of love, 
 And "brave warriors" exult in the day, 
 
 When to you her deep sympathy fully to prove, 
 She deign'd this royal tribute to pay. 
 
 Good deeds will outlive all earth's fading flow'rs, 
 Oh ! could wo but bear this in mind, 
 
 And by actions of kindness redeem life's short 
 hours, 
 'Twere well for the peace of mankind. 
 
 March, 1855. 
 
 Her Majesty the Queen was graciously pleased to accept this poem, 
 and express her valued approval of its loyal sentiments. 
 
11 
 
 S.ines 
 
 Suggested by the Monument erected by Queen Victoria to 
 
 the Memory of the Princess Elizabeth, daughter 
 
 of Charles I. 
 
 " Where the wicked cease from troubling, and 
 
 the weary are at rest," 
 Thou art gone, angelic being, to the mansions of 
 
 the blest. 
 No more to be awaken'd by earth's o'erwhelming 
 
 woes ; 
 How blissful is thy portion, how calm is thy re- 
 pose. 
 Eoyal daughter of our Martyr, thy misfortunes 
 
 thee endear. 
 And thy suff'rings still call forth the sympathetic 
 
 tear. 
 Thy talent and thy virtues could not shield thee 
 
 from the blast. 
 For by sorrow, deepest sorrow, thy young life 
 
 was overcast. 
 
12 
 
 When death his victim claim'd thou wert ready 
 
 for the call, 
 For thee, thou sainted suff 'rer, he had nothing to 
 
 appal. 
 Thy hands were clasp'd in pray'r, and thy lovely 
 
 cheek reclin'd 
 On God's most Holy Word, like a penitent re- 
 
 sign'd. 
 As a tribute of respect to thy worth and early 
 
 doom, 
 Our noble Queen Victoria has plac'd this beauteous 
 
 tomb ; 
 There we gaze on thy sweet face as an angel now 
 
 at rest. 
 Peace, ! to thy mem'ry, lov'd one, be thou for ever 
 
 blest. 
 
 i8S7- 
 
 The effects of soitow, preying on the feeble constitution of the 
 Princess resulted in disease, and in September, 1650, she was found 
 dead in her apartment nineteen months after her father's death, her 
 hands clasp'd in prayer, her cheek reclining on the Bible. The re- 
 mains of the Princess were interred in the Church of St. Thomas, 
 Newport, Isle of Wight. 
 
 The Monument is the work of Baron Mavoohetti. 
 I 
 
13 
 
 %^t mut i0 % m. 
 
 " Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my 
 "brethren, ye have done it unto me." 
 
 St. Matthew xxv. 40. 
 
 Simply attir'd thougli of distinguished mien, 
 A Lady at a Cottage door is seen ; 
 She enters in and mounts the narrow stair, 
 To the Sick Chamber does she then repair. 
 
 There with kind words the sufF'rer to greet. 
 Beside the bed she tallies her lowly seat : 
 Shedding bright sunshine in the darken'd room, 
 Her Christian love, dispels the mourner's gloom. 
 
 Her words, they touch the poor desponding heart. 
 And courage, and true fortitude impart — 
 Her visit o'er, the Lady leaves the place, 
 A " Holy Peace" is beaming on her face. 
 
 Her carriage waits and from its arms we glean 
 "That Noble Lady^' was our much-lov'd 
 Queen. 
 
 Written on hearing an interesting anecdote of H. G. M. Queen 
 Victoria. 
 
14 
 
 TRIBUTE 
 
 To the Memory of the lov'd and lamented Prince 
 Albert. Written on hearing of his death. 
 
 " Not lost, but gone before." 
 
 Through every Land the " Mournful News" is 
 
 spread, 
 Th' Illustrious Consort of our Queen is dead ! 
 Albert the good, the hrave, the justly loved : 
 With deep emotion is the country mov'd. 
 
 A Nation weeps, and sacred are her tears, 
 Weeps for the Prince each feeling heart reveres ; 
 Whose numerous virtues and whose gifted mind 
 Adom'd his Station and enrieh'd mankind. 
 
 Foremost o'er works sublime he did preside, 
 His genius sought man's welfare to provide ; 
 Arts, Science, Literature, in him deplore. 
 The Noble Friend, the Patron of the poor. 
 
15 
 
 Lo ! Grief is reigning 'neath the Palace Dome 
 And in the lowly Peasant's cottage home : 
 Oh ! God of Love, the sorrowing hearts resign, 
 Pour down on them from Heav'n Thy balm 
 divine. 
 
 Say to the stricken ones. Peace, peace, be still ! 
 Those souls submissive to Thy " Holy Will," 
 To Thee, the Fatherless and Orphans flee. 
 The Widow's trust alone 's reposed on Thee. 
 
 The chain is broken, " Fond affection's chain" 
 Bind closer still the links which yet remain — 
 Bind closer still the links so firmly riv'n, 
 The chain now sever'd may be join'd in Heav'n, 
 
 Place du Croisie, 
 
 Nantes, France. 
 
 Dec. 26. 
 
16 
 
 Cptttjalamtum 
 
 On tlie Mamage of H. E. H. the Priucess Eoyal with H. E. H. 
 Prince Frederick AVUliam of Prussia. 
 
 Auspicious be tlie day, the Nuptial Day — 
 Let Happiness supreme alone have sway ; 
 For Prussia's valiant son claims as his Bride, 
 Our Queen's belov'd child, her joy, and pride. 
 
 Then wreathe the " Orange Blossoms" for her 
 
 brow, 
 And England hail the Eoyal Espousals now ; 
 Oh ! twine the Coronal and Garlands gay 
 And banish care from this the Festal day. 
 
 In ancient Eome the Lover sent his Bride 
 An " Iron Eing," pledge of affection tried ; 
 May the Gold riog which these fond hearts unite 
 Be bless'd to them and fraught with promise 
 bright. 
 
 A fitting token may it truly prove. 
 As emblematic of their lasting love ; 
 Within the hallow'd Fane the guests repair 
 In dazzling gems and glistening jewels rare. 
 
 In gorgeous splendour gleams the imposing sight. 
 The Bishops meet to solemnize the rite ; 
 Methinks I see the Eoyal and Noble band, 
 Around God's holy altar take their stand. 
 
17 
 
 Our gracious Queeu, the mother of the Bride, 
 Our honour'd Prince her sire by her side, 
 Forgetting all the pageantry of state, 
 With throbbing hearts, and loving hopes elate. 
 
 The youthful Bride deck'd with becoming grace. 
 And veil'd from view her fair and charming face ; 
 The Bridemaids all in elegant array. 
 Beaming with smiles their interest to display. 
 
 The younger members of her home are there. 
 And in their sister's welfare seem to share": 
 That sister whom from them so soon must roam, 
 The lov'd companion of their childhood's home. 
 
 With pleasure is the handsome Bridegroom seen. 
 Manly in form and prepossessing mien ; 
 When at the Sacred Shrine the lovers bow 
 And consecrate to God the solemn vow. 
 
 How many in secret breathe for them the pray'r^ 
 And shower blessings on that youthful pair. 
 And thou " Fair Daughter" of a Eoyal liae. 
 In thee may all thyjparents' virtues shine ; 
 
 May he whom thou has taken for thy choice 
 E'er cause thy gentle spirit to rejoice. 
 May glorious sunshine gild life's coming hours. 
 Thy prosp'rous path be strew'd with radiant flowers. 
 
 To thee and thine earth's best priz'd gifts be giv'n. 
 And may thine union here, be blessed in Heav'n. 
 
18 
 
 "Our National Wymn." 
 
 On hearing "God save the Queen" in a foreign land. 
 
 Our "National Hymn" o'er my spirit hath come, 
 Like a messenger voice from my much belov'd 
 
 home, 
 WhUe thoughts of the absent uprose to my mind, 
 And my feelings were mov'd by remembrances 
 
 kind. 
 
 Our "National Hymn" touch'd each chord of my 
 
 heart. 
 And a shadow of sadness to me did impart ; 
 For a stranger I rov'd on a far distant strand, 
 To hear the sweet strains of my own native land. 
 
 Our "National Hymn" then appeal'd to my soul. 
 My deep felt emotions I could not control ; 
 Methought of my Country, my Sovereign, my 
 
 Home, 
 They'll ne'er be forgotten where'er I may roam, 
 
 Our " National Hymn," oh ! I love its soft strain, 
 And oft may I hear its sweet music again, 
 Tho' it ne'er can my spirit so fully come o'er, 
 As when wand'ring a stranger I rov'd by that 
 shore. 
 
 Bretagne, 1845. 
 
19 
 
 t §m of S^tmh. 
 
 Tribute to the memory of the lamented Lieut. General 
 
 Sir Charles Napier. Dedicated to his brother 
 
 Sir William Napier. 
 
 "Eequieseent in pace.' 
 
 Anothee Valiant Hero is no more, 
 
 The soldier's Friend— the Victor kind and 
 brave, 
 One who his Country's honours nobly bore. 
 
 The " Gallant Napier" rests within his grave. 
 
 " Brave," as the bravest on the battle field. 
 And ever ready at his Sovereign's call ; 
 
 His dauntless mind was never known to yield ; 
 In danger's hour, nought could his heart appal. 
 
 Yet, gentle was that heart in peace to those 
 Who prov'd his enemies, when rag'd the 
 fight; 
 
 The strife once ended — e'en his very foes 
 Hail'd him their benefactor with delight. 
 
20 
 
 Not in the din of war the hero fell, 
 
 Though, peaceful waving o'er his bed of death. 
 The " Glorious Colours" droop'd a mute farewell, 
 
 Ere the ag'd Chief to Heav'n resign'd his 
 breath. 
 
 Peace to his mem'ry — honour to his name. 
 
 Soldiers ! with you he fought, with you he 
 bled; 
 
 Strew o'er the Warrior's grave fresh leaves of fame, 
 Bedew'd with tears, such tears the Heroes shed. 
 
 "He expired under the colours of the 22nd Eegiment, for Ms 
 " son-in-law, Major McMurdo, seized those glorious relics from the 
 " corner of his ehamher, and fastened them to the head of his open 
 " bedstead hefore breathing ceased." 
 
 Note fkom the Papeb. 
 
 " If Miss Payne publishes them, they will touch the honest feeling 
 "of many a brave Soldier, who will bless her for honouring the 
 " memory of the General they loved so well." 
 
 Extract from the letter of Sir Wm. ITapier, the Illustrious 
 Historian of the Peninsular War. 
 
 Sep. 22, 1853. 
 
21 
 
 3(mproniptu* 
 
 " God bless the Prince of Wales : Spare him, Good Lord." 
 
 TE DEtJM. 
 
 O'ee Britain's Isle a gloom appear'd 
 
 At that most blessed time, 
 When "Angel's songs" of " Peace" were heard 
 
 And bells harmonious chime. 
 
 Sad ! Scotia's Highland, Mount, and Gleii, 
 
 Where were her minstrels' lays 1 
 *' Erin's sweet Harp" was silent then — 
 
 Hush'd were the hymns of praise. 
 
 Lo ! Cambria's beauteous hills and dales 
 
 In sombre hues profound — 
 For o'er her much lov'd Prince of Wales 
 
 "DEATH'S ANGEL" hover'd round. 
 
 The Harp neglected and unstrung. 
 Careless is cast aside ; 
 
22 
 
 No more her Bard's soft strains are sung, 
 All mourn their Country's pride. 
 
 In England's " Happy Homes'' are cares, 
 Though deck'd for festive scene. 
 
 For every royal heart now shares 
 The sorrows of our Queen. 
 
 To God, our " Kefuge" in distress. 
 
 Is rais'd the Nation's prayer 
 That He would deign the Prince to bless. 
 
 And to his people spare. 
 
 Spare to the tender loving Wife, 
 
 Heroic in her grief ! 
 Spare, Gracious God ! that precious life. 
 
 And give the sick relief. 
 
 The prayer is heard, all hearts rejoice, 
 
 Thanks be to God our stay ; 
 Let Heaven be praised with grateful voice, 
 
 "DEATH'S ANGEL" flees away. 
 
 1872. 
 
23 
 
 Lines 
 
 Written on hearing that the character of H. R. H. Prince 
 Albert had been most unjustly assailed. 
 
 "Gottes segen alien." 
 
 And are there those who daringly defame 
 
 Our honour'd Prince's most illustrious name ? 
 
 Can there be those so worthless and so base, 
 
 Who Would his spotless character deface 1 
 
 Alas ! tis true, the history of mankind 
 
 Brings oft such sad remembrances to mind ; 
 
 'Twas so in Rome's victorious days of old — 
 
 Her ancient chronicles do these unfold. 
 
 How often then the nohle, good, and great, 
 
 Were subjects of ingratitude and hate, 
 
 Yet ne'er will England thus so abject prove ' 
 To one to whom she owes her deepest love — 
 
24 
 
 One who in arts, and science, sought to raise 
 Out Country's weal, deserves her warmest praise ; 
 Whose num'rous virtues brighter still appear, 
 Whose true Benevolence all hearts endear. 
 A passing breath the Diamond seems to mar. 
 That it may shine with greater lustre far ; 
 So will our Prince be still more justly priz'd. 
 And with contefnpt his enemies despised. 
 Let nought the Consort of our Queen dismay. 
 Loyal hearts with fervour for his welfare pray ; 
 Pray for our Queen and Prince, to them be giv'n. 
 To them and theirs, the choicest gifts of Heav'n. 
 
25 
 
 ^0 H. §1. H. f rinrcss ixthxkl WiiWmm. 
 
 On the birth of her first-born son. 
 
 ("Hcil dir im Siegenkrawy.") 
 
 Dear little Innocent, tinconscious of thy lot, 
 Heir to the Palaces, or the Peasant's Cot ; 
 What must have been thy mother's youthful joy 
 When first she gazed on thee, thou lovely boy 1 
 Thy precious cherub face, so fair, so calm. 
 Smiling serenely on her loving arm — 
 Now by no worldly cares art thou assail'd. 
 The future is before thee, ne'er unveiled, 
 May'st thou a blessing to thy parents be, 
 And all they fondly wish be found in thee. 
 " Prussia's Bright Star," whose orbit is unknown, 
 Perchance thou'lt grasp the Sceptre of the Throne. 
 Sweet little Flow'ret, unto thee be giv'n 
 Truly in Baptism, the dews of Heav'n. 
 Unscath'd by earthly storms whilst blooming here. 
 May all thy hopes and joys be centred there. 
 
26 
 
 Welcome to May. 
 
 Come beautiful May, come beautiful May, 
 
 To welcome tbee, all things are joyously gay- — 
 
 In the woods the Cuckoo is on the wing, 
 
 And her song proclaims the bright cheerful spring. 
 
 The Violet peeps out from her mossy bed — ■ 
 
 The delicate Primrose uprears its head ; 
 
 While Hawthorns their snowy blossoms display, 
 
 Decking the hedges in Bridal array. 
 
 Lo ! Flora calls forth from her early tomb. 
 
 Earth's loveliest children, once more to become ; 
 
 Fair Beautiful May, thou'rt privileged to shine, 
 
 For our Sovereign's natal day is thine ; 
 
 Oft happy returns of that welcome day 
 
 Be gladdened by thee, Fair Beautiful May, 
 
 Jersey. 
 
27 
 
 te gmt Mage mm. 
 
 Dedicated to Miss Mitford. 
 
 " C'est ici la ville de la paix." 
 
 Btmardim de St. Pierre. 
 
 How I love our " Native Village," 
 Where I've pass'd such happy hours— 
 
 With its Cottages and Hamlet, 
 
 And its sweet and clust'ring flowers. 
 
 With its rural little Inn, 
 
 All so cheerful and so neat — 
 
 Whose ancient gaudy sign 
 May be seen across the street. 
 
 How I love the " Village Green," 
 Where the children oft resort 
 
 To curie their flowery wreaths. 
 And enjoy their healthful sport. 
 
 It is very near the Pond 
 
 Where the cattle come to drink. 
 
 Finding shelter from the sun 
 
 'Neath the trees around its brink. 
 
 Yonder stands the " Village School," 
 With the Blacksmith's Forge in sight- 
 
28 
 
 "Where the idle urchins listen 
 To the news with much deUght. 
 
 How I love the "Village Farm," 
 
 For it joins the old estate ; 
 Its well fill'd Barns and Haystacks — 
 
 Its rusty creaking gate. 
 
 Lo ! the Squire's grand domain, 
 O'er the Hamlet doth appear ; 
 
 'Tis there a hearty welcome's found 
 With hospitable cheer. 
 
 How I love the Village Pars'nage — 
 
 The air of blest repose ; 
 Its rustic porch with clematis. 
 
 Where twines the beauteous Rose. 
 
 How I love the Village Church 
 With the Ivy clinging round, 
 
 Its Bells of joy and sadness, 
 Its Sacred Burial ground. 
 
 I have dwelt in mighty cities^ 
 
 And some Lands renown'd I have seen. 
 Yet dearer far to me than these, 
 
 "Is our Native Village Green." 
 
 1845- 
 
elcome* 
 
 On the Queen's Visit to Paris. 
 
 To Her Most Gracious Majesty Queen Victoria, by Louis Boivin, 
 Translated from the French of Louis Boivin by Clara Payne. 
 
 Yes, Madame ! most -welcome you are, it is true, 
 The grand City op'ning her arms receives you, 
 And in her book with gold inscribes her best of 
 
 days> 
 A feat there which proudly will e'er meet the 
 
 gaze. 
 
 Two gen'rous nations long time one has seen, 
 Lo ! warring against each other they've been ; 
 Mingling, alas, their blood and their tears 
 In the waves of that sea which between us ap- 
 pears. 
 One day in victory and then in reverse 
 Now give an example to the Universe ; 
 For other glories they each have in view, 
 From which " peace" and good to all will ensue ; 
 
30 
 
 And displaying an ardour and genius profound, 
 
 For those Beauteous Arts for which both are re- 
 nown'd. 
 
 And these two great Nations e'er rivals before, 
 
 Soon astonish and ravish the world with their 
 store ; 
 
 Their marvels of Science and Industry prove 
 
 How much may be gained by Union and Love. 
 
 But a savage aggression unjust and unkind 
 
 Lo ! troubles, alas, the peace of mankind ; 
 
 The call of a people outrag'd and oppress'd 
 
 Kesounds and arouses the Nations from rest. 
 
 And England and France immediately stand 
 
 Instant exclaiming your hand in my hand. 
 
 Firmly in bonds their Eights they unite — 
 
 Let us shew to the World that for Freedom we 
 fight, 
 
 And suffer ne'er friends on earth it shall be, 
 
 We yield up the cause of the Injured and Free. 
 
 We are proud, and as strong as in those days of 
 yore 
 
 When Talbot loves Saiat'railles, nor need we 
 Dunois. 
 
31 
 
 English, and French come, with courage combin'd 
 
 In unisons beat our hearts are entwin'd ; 
 
 Forget all. of "Rome" and of "Carthage" of 
 old, 
 
 And " London" and " Paris'' as sisters behold. 
 
 When 'neath the same banners' proud swelling 
 wave 
 
 Together die nobly our soldiers so brave ; 
 
 No more shaU " La Manche" as the frontier ap- 
 pear, 
 
 'Tis the Artery now of our countries so dear. 
 
 An Alliance thus founded must justice impart, 
 
 'Tis plac'd in the noble instincts of the heart, 
 
 Yes, Madame, to all the world it will prove 
 
 How perfect th' order, the peace, and the love, 
 
 One day to our nephews th' impartial Histoire, 
 
 ShaU speaking of you, say her name was "Victoire." 
 
 She has conquer'd the Russians, and oh ! greater 
 far. 
 
 She has overcome "Prejudice" whose impious 
 War 
 
 Did never two nations united proclaim. 
 
 Thus History judges of Kings and their Fame — 
 
32 
 
 Madame! of all your glory, nought so glorious 
 
 will shine, 
 As that noble alliance you've failed not to sign, 
 Which has raised in the fields where our Ancestors 
 
 fought, 
 The blest fruits of " Concord," and a confidence 
 
 bought. 
 
 Certain Kings, whom as your predecessors are 
 found. 
 
 On their steps they shed horrors and terrors around. 
 
 They oft times trod down the Aggressors' alarms. 
 
 On the soil which receives you, they had not your 
 
 arms ; 
 By Iron they sought their stern pow'r to gain. 
 Then on " France" never bear e'en envy again, 
 For you, Madam, more truly have conquer'd our 
 
 race. 
 By your sympathy, goodness, and exquisite grace. 
 
 Dedicated and approved by the poet Louis Boivin. 
 
 Note. — Difficult for literal translation. 
 
 Sept., 1855. 
 
33 
 
 Jmpromptu. 
 
 On the interesting Visit of our Gracious Sovereign to 
 H. M. S. " Queen." 
 
 ' Long to reign over us, God save the Queen," 
 
 What tho' the sky appears obscur'd to-day ! "' 
 Why is yon splendid Vessel deck'd so gay ? 
 Her yards are mann'd, her colour proudly flies, 
 In conscious strength she ail the world defies. 
 Her gallant Tars with more than usual state 
 In expectation do they seem to wait ; 
 Enthusiastic now, those true hearts beat, 
 As they with one accord their Sovereign greet. 
 Victoria and her Consort, lo ! this day 
 An honour'd tribute to the Navy pay ; 
 
 * The morning of the First was most unfavourable. 
 
34 
 
 With them our country's patriot behold, 
 Brave, Wellington ! who did her rights uphold. 
 The Queen with interest o'er the vessel roves, 
 And graciously of everything approves ; 
 She e'en partakes the sailor's humble cheer, 
 While rapturous applause salutes the ear. 
 Oh ! 'twas a moment of enchantment's scene 
 For those who witness'd there "Our youthful 
 
 Queen." 
 There on that deck whose thunders would be 
 
 hurl'd 
 In her defence against a warring world : 
 Surrounded by the brave devoted crew — 
 Britannia's worthy sons — the loyal — the true. 
 Oh ! 'twas a moment of unmix'd delight, 
 Oft " memory" wiU recal the touchiag sight, 
 And ever thine '' Proud Ship," our country's psean 
 That Thou, Almighty God! protect the Queen. 
 
 March, 1842. 
 
35 
 
 f ima S'lW. 
 
 (God bless the youtMul happy pair.) 
 
 Great Britain's sons in every land 
 
 For valorous deeds are famed ; 
 Her Hero, Soldier, Sailor band 
 
 Have " Laurels" nobly claim'd. 
 Her Flag triumphant floats on bigh, 
 
 Keady her splendid Fleet ; 
 Should aught our Island coast defy 
 
 Her enemies to meet. 
 The "Sailor Prince/' her boast, her joy, 
 
 Alfred the brave, and lov'd. 
 Has served her well, e'en when a boy, 
 
 And dauntless courage proved. 
 
36 
 
 A Victory, our Prince, with power 
 
 Has gained o'er Kussia's pride ; 
 Maeie ! her beauteous, Siveetest Flow'r 
 
 Is our Eoyal Sailor's Bride ! 
 Let " brightest garlands" now appear, 
 
 With every loyal design ; 
 Encircling those Eoyal names so dear, 
 
 And lovers' emblems twine. 
 The " Hero Prince," the "Maiden fair," 
 
 United heart and hand ; 
 " God bless the youthful happy pair," 
 
 Eesound through Britain's land. 
 
37 
 
 LINES 
 
 Written after reading the attempt on Her Majesty's life. 
 
 ^ §0^1 ^%Mk. 
 
 Oh ! that a miscreant's hand should e'er have 
 
 dar'd, 
 Attempt the life of " One" so much endear'd — 
 Our cherished Queen, Old England's youthful 
 
 guide, 
 Who in her Subjects, love did all confide. 
 Britons rejoice ! was vain the wretch's power. 
 Our Queen hath Heav'n preserv'd in that dread 
 
 hour, 
 Preserv'd her yet' — a Nation's hopes to bless — 
 How shall her people now its joy express ■? 
 Careless of fear, " Victoria" nobler prov'd. 
 In danger's hour, e'en worthier of being lov'd. 
 Yes, with fresh fervour will her subjects pray, 
 That thro' life's ills still Heav'n may prove their 
 
 stay. 
 Long may kind providence our Queen preserve, 
 And with devotion loyal her subjects serve. 
 
 June, 1842. 
 
3» 
 
 ^ Mtlcmt io ^Ki^. 
 
 Oh ! ■welcome now, fair radiant May ! 
 
 Thy joyous sunny hours ; 
 Oh I ■welcome now thy garlands gay, 
 
 Of earth's most lovely flo-wers. 
 
 " Victorious Rome" could never o"wn 
 
 A diadem like thine, 
 Far aU her splendid triumphs won, 
 
 Thy priceless gems outshine. 
 
 Oh ! "welcome no"w, thy beaming smile 
 
 O'er Nature's visage cast, 
 For " Beauteous Flora" to our Isle 
 
 With thee hath come at last. 
 
 Hath come at last, "with cheering face. 
 And robes of emerald green ; 
 
 Deck'd thus the Natal day to grace 
 Of Britain's much- loved Queen. 
 
 Oft by our Country be that day — 
 StUl welcomed here with smiles. 
 
 And bless'd in each return of May 
 " Victoria," Queen of Isles ! 
 
 1845. 
 
39 
 
 %'^t ftcro f rotjetfli* 
 
 Dedicated to Sir Edward Bulwer Lytton, 
 
 The conflict's o'er, now side by side, 
 
 The Hero Brothers slept ; 
 Death would not those brave ones divide, 
 
 Where danger's post they'd kept. 
 
 A last farewell — a last embrace — 
 They had exchang'd in gloom. 
 
 Then manfuUy prepared to face 
 Whate'er their hapless doom. 
 
 Ended the Valiant Warwick's strife. 
 
 His deeds of daring done ; 
 Ingratitude with vengeance rife. 
 
 These fatal wars begun. 
 
 Brave Montague spum'd on by hate, 
 Kesolved he ne'er would yield ; 
 
40 
 
 Dauntless he shared his brother's fate, 
 And scorn'd to quit the field. 
 
 Two noble trees of giant height, 
 O'ershadow'd where they lay, 
 
 As though to shield from that dread fight 
 The Heroes of the day. 
 
 With awe now gather'd round the dead. 
 
 Behold the Victors stand ; 
 From Warwick scarcely life hath fled. 
 
 Still grasps the axe his hand. 
 
 They rais'd the visor from his face, 
 
 Reviv'd by purest air ; 
 To heav'n, he dying, breathes for grace. 
 
 For wife and chUd, his prayer. 
 
 Then peacefully he sinks from life — 
 No soimd proclaims his kneU ; 
 
 Last in the mighty Barons' strife 
 •'The Hero Brothers" feU! 
 
 Composed while reading Bulwer's clever and highly- wrought novel, 
 " The Last of the Barons." 
 
41 
 
 Cfie 3xi&^ Catiin* 
 
 Dedicated to Samuel Lover, Esq., Author of Rory O'More. 
 
 Tho' wretched was the hut, tho' poor the fare, , 
 Tho' age and poverty were blended there. 
 Yet happiness within the cabin dwelt 
 And by the inmates were her blessings felt. 
 
 Tho' they in tatter'd garb and dirty mien, 
 With faces deck'd in smiles may still be seen ; 
 Contented with their miserable lot, ' 
 Their wants and sorrows ate in smiles forgot. 
 
 The pig he enters, too, his master's door, 
 And takes his rest upon the smoke-stained floor. 
 Near him the children with the dog will play. 
 While cackling fowls give out their "noisy lay." 
 
 Within the cabin, be it e'er so small, 
 A hearty welcome Paddy gives to all ; 
 
42 
 
 He begs the stranger will his potheen* share, 
 And with replies of wit dispels dull care. 
 
 E'en when you part, " good luck," the j&nal word, 
 
 In cheering accents always may be heard. 
 
 " Good luck" to Paddy — wheresoe'er I roam, 
 
 I'll ne'er forget his hospitable home. 
 
 County Cork, 
 
 Ireland. 
 1843. 
 
 * Like a sort of whiskey spirit distilled, made from potatoes. 
 
 " Having seized the very earliest opportunity of thanking you, and 
 acknowledging the compliment you were so kind as to pay me in 
 dedicating to me some truthful and heart-speaking lines on the ' Irish 
 Cabin.' * * * * Independently of the compliment to myself your 
 lines breathe a feeling towards my country that endears the sentiments 
 of the gentle writer to whom I sincerely give back the thanks of an 
 Irishman." 
 
 Samtjbl Lovek, 
 
 Ryde, Isle of Wight. 
 
43 
 
 The Ivy Wreath of Queen Catharine Parr. 
 
 DEDICATED TO MISS AQNES STRICKLAND. 
 
 " lis rapellent rimmortalite sur I'aurel mene de la mort." — Ca/rmue. 
 
 In Sudley's ruin'd chapel, lo ! 'twas there 
 
 Eoyal Katharine's neglected tomb was found ; 
 
 More than two centuries had passed, while here 
 Eepos'd her corpse, within the hallo w'd ground. 
 
 Yet time had not her lineaments effac'd — 
 
 She seem'd as slumb'ring in death's tranquil 
 sleep, 
 
 For perfect might her features then be trac'd, 
 So well in death their form of life they keep. 
 
 What tho' no regal crown adorn'd her brow, 
 Nature a verdant chaplet round it spread ; 
 
 "A living wreath of ivy" bloom'd there now, 
 With solemn majesty it crown'd the dead. 
 
44 
 
 The ivy faithful to the ruin clings, 
 
 And o'er some scene uncar'd for and forgot, 
 
 A beauteous mantle gracefully it flings, 
 To deck in grandeur the forsaken spot. 
 
 So in the grave this " Ivy wreath" we find. 
 Where all else living had for ages fled 
 
 " A green sepulchral coronal" entwin'd 
 Around the temples of the honour'd dead. 
 June, 1844. 
 
 Note. — " The last time the coffin of Queen Catharine Parr was opened, 
 it was discovered that a wreath of ivy had entwined itself round the 
 temples of the royal corpse, a harry having fallen there and taken root 
 at the time of her previous exhumation, and there had silently from 
 day to day woven itself into this green sepulchral coronal."* 
 
 * Written after reading Mias Btricklauil's interesting " Lives of the Queens of 
 England," Vol. v. 
 
 Sunday Mornino, Thebb Mile Crosb. 
 
 ' ' I did not receive your flattering note, and very interesting lines on 
 Queen Catharine Parr's ' Sepulchral Coronal,' till Saturday last on my 
 my return from Normandy, I now hasten to express my hest acknow- 
 ledgements hoth for the compliment of composing so graceful a poem 
 on a portion of my work, and the kindness in indulging me with a 
 copy of the lines : I assure you I shall prize them very muck. 
 
 "AeNBS STRIOKLAiro." 
 "July 9, 1844." 
 
45 
 
 % %xiMt 
 
 To the memory of the Illustrious Schiller. 
 
 " Nur zwir Tugenden gibts warin s^ immer ; immer lu giite auch grosy 
 dii grosy auoli giite." 
 
 SOHILLEE. 
 
 Methought as I stood by the lonely bed, 
 
 And gaz'd on the wreaths that were with'ring 
 there ; 
 
 Where the soul of the gifted genius fled, 
 Nought but faded chaplets deck'd the bier. 
 
 Methought as I gaz'd on that sacred place, 
 
 With "Flowers Immortal" freah wreaths I'd 
 twine, 
 
 And an " English Tribute" should also grace 
 The German Poet's haUow'd shrine. 
 
 Methought of that Poet's wondrous mind, 
 Of the talents that unto him were given ; 
 
 Of his true heart's love for aU mankind, 
 And his faith and trust evinced in Heav'n. 
 
46 
 
 Priz'd son of genius ! we thee must revere, — 
 Thro' far distant countries thy fame is spread ; 
 
 And pilgrims from every land come here, 
 Their homage to yield the illustrious dead. 
 
 Oh ! thou brilliant Star of the father land, 
 A halo encircles thine honour'd name ; 
 
 Shining foremost amongst her glorious band. 
 Immortal, is Schiller, thy well eam'd fame. 
 
 Sep. i6th, 1859. 
 
 Kote. — ^These Lines were written in Luther's Wartburg, Easenach, 
 Dnohy of Saxe Weimer, after visiting the Poet's home in Thuringia. 
 They are dedicated to Lady Wallace. 
 
 " Pray allow me to thank yon very mnch for the heautiful lines you 
 did me the honour to send me. I am qmte charmed hoth by your 
 kindness in thinking of me, and also the eloquence of your ' Tribute 
 to my Hero.'" 
 
 From Lady Wallace, author of " Schiller's life. " 
 
t §.m^miiaxi. 
 
 Translated from the German of J. R. Vogl by 
 Clara Payne. 
 
 RETURSfiNG home from a distant land, 
 A wanderer comes, his staff in hand ; 
 Covered with dust, sun-burnt, and lone. 
 By whom will the wanderer first be known 1 
 Through the ancient gate he enters the street, 
 Where the tollman stands his dues to meet. 
 The tollman, the traveller's friend, had been. 
 Them oft had the goblet united seen ; 
 But the toUman, alas ! knew him no more, 
 So altered his mien from days of yore. 
 And the wanderer again after brief delay. 
 Shoulders his staff, and pursues his way. 
 There looked from her window his treasured prize ; 
 " Oh ! welcome, loved girl," tie traveller cries ; 
 
48 
 
 The blooming girl remembers him not — 
 His countenance changed, is quite forgot. 
 And the traveller once more his path renews, 
 While a tear his sun-burnt cheeks bedews. 
 Now passed from the church his mother dear ; 
 " God bless thee !" he spake, as she came near ; 
 The mother exclaimed with joyous start, 
 " My son !" and sank on the wanderer's heart. 
 For though foreign climes had changed his face, 
 A mother's eye can those features trace. 
 
 Published in the ' Oritie' for February 20th, 1847, and copied in 
 the ' Cannathan Jonmal.' 
 
49 
 
 % m ^aj^st^ la §.tm ^Maxm, 
 
 WELCOME ! 
 
 Oui, Madame, chez nous vous-^tes tres bienveu 
 En ouvrant ses bras la grand ville emue, 
 Inscrit au livre d'or des meilleures de ses jours, 
 Un fait qu'avec orqueil.nous y lisons toujours. 
 
 Longtemps I'un contre I'autre en armes, 
 On vit deux peuples genereux 
 M^len et leur sang et leur larmes, 
 Aux flots que la mer roule entre eui, 
 Un jour afin de la Victoire. 
 Lape'g non moins que des revers — 
 Donner I'exemple k I'Univers 
 Charcun de son ardent g^ni^ 
 Se levant aux libres essors 
 Aux arts de la paix s'ing^nie 
 Et des Merveilles des tresors 
 Etonnents ravissent le monde 
 
50 
 
 Les deux peuples toujours rivaux, 
 
 Dans leur activite f^conde 
 
 Lultent de bienfaisons travaux. 
 
 Mais une aggression savage 
 
 Trouble la paix du genre bumaia ; 
 
 L'appel d'un peuple outrage, 
 
 Eetentil " Debout !" Votre main dans ma main, 
 
 Le dit aussitot la France et I'Angleterre, 
 
 Francbissant d'un seul bond pour s'unir le detroit j 
 
 Amis ne souflfrons pas que jamais sur la terre, 
 
 Nous debout succombe le droit, 
 
 Montrons qu'au fer j'eu des battailles, 
 
 Nous somme fort comme autrefois ; 
 
 Mais que Talbot aime Saintrailles, 
 
 Et meure, au besoin pour Dunois. 
 
 Francais, Anglais, allons courage ! 
 
 A I'umsson battent nos coeurs ; 
 
 OubUons tous Home et Cartbage, 
 
 " Londres" et " Paris" sont deux soeurs, 
 
 Loraque sous le m^me banm&re. 
 
 Ensemble meurent nos soldats ; 
 
 r^a Mancbe n'est plus la frontiere, 
 
 C'est arter^ des deux etats. 
 
 Une alliance qui se fonde 
 
 Sur les nobles instints du coeur ; 
 
51 
 
 Devra Madame rendre au monde, 
 L'ordre, la Paix, et la boiiheur. 
 Un jour h, nos neveux rimpartiale histoire 
 Dira parlant de vous son nom ^tait Victoire ; 
 EUe a vaincre le Russe et mieux les prdjuges, 
 Qui jadis fourvoyaient en des gaerres irapies, 
 Deux nations par elle a jamais reunies. 
 
 De toutes vos grandeur rien n'est plus glorieux, 
 Madame, que d'avoir signant I'alliance ; 
 Fait germer dans les champs oil luttaient. 
 
 Je recois k I'instaiit, Madame, la belle traduction dont vons avez 
 honore mes vers j usque la, leur vmique mferite Halt I'intention qui 
 avait inspirfe maia en passant sous Totre plume. lis ont pris k mes 
 yeux une grand valeur nne minute d' attention donn& par vous k cette 
 bleutte m'avait rendre heureux, Madame ! C'est assez vous dire com- 
 bien vetre celleboretion me rend iier. Veuillez bien je vous prife 
 Madame, agr^e avec 1' expression de ma gratitude, 
 
 Mon homage respeoteux, &o., &c. 
 
 LOUIS BOIVIN. 
 
 Great Avenue, Champs Elysfee, Paris.