Is it, at last, then so? Is she then dead? What! dead at last quite quite, for ever, dead? I do not weep!—the springs of tears are dry'd.' He resorted many times to gaze, with feelings that no words can express, upon the form of her who had bore him, and who, tenderly as she had ever watched for his advantage and pleasure, could now show to him no tokens of recognition, could neither hear his voice, nor answer to his passionate apostrophes and laments. Parents we can have but once. Sleep, that "knits up the ravelled sleeve of care," refused its peace to his weary lids; and he remained, his eyes opened wide upon the cold, blank darkness, reflecting upon the change that had taken place in his destiny. You must bear with me, Pray now, forget and forgive: I am old and foolish.2 Be your tears wet? Yes, faith. I pray you, weep not: If you have poison for me, I will drink it.3 O! she is gone for ever! I know when one is dead, and when one lives; And thou no breath at all? O, thou wilt come no more, Never, never, never, never, never! Pray you undo this button:- Thank you, Sir. 2 King Lear. 4 Ibid. 1 Congreve (Mourning Bride, A. 5.) Do you see this?-Look on her-look- her lips; [LEAR dies.]1 But to her closing eyes, for all were there, The words so precious which we heard that night." She slept in peace,- say rather, soar'd to heaven. So sweetly from the world, as if her clay Or, if thou art too much woman, softly weep, I have now, he pathetically remarks, lost my barrier between me and death. God grant I may live to be as well prepared for it as I confidently believe her to have been! If the way to Heaven be through piety, truth, justice and charity, she is there.1 The king received this fatal news (the death of the queen-mother) after the battle of Kolin, and at a moment when fortune seemed most to have declared against the Prussians. He was deeply affected at it, having always venerated and adored this princess as a tender mother, whose virtues and great qualities caused the admiration of those who 1 King Lear. 2 Rogers (Human Life). 3 On Venetia Stanley, a beautiful creature of her day, who was found dead on her couch; her hand supporting her head in the attitude of sleep. 4 Swift (On the Death of his Mother, i. 111.) (Scott's ed.) had the happiness to approach her. Her death did not occasion merely a formal mourning, but was a public calamity. The great regretted her amiable and generous manners, the lower orders her condescension, the poor their benefactress, the unfortunate their consoling protectress, the men of letters their patroness; and all those who had the honour to approach her more nearly, as part of her family, felt as if they had lost a part of themselves, and were much more unhappy at the blow which carried her away from them than she was herself.' See where the kindest, best of mothers lies, Still, still she is my soul's diurnal theme, O'er my It is not the tear at this moment shed, 1 Histoire de la Guerre de Sept Ans, par Frederic II. That can tell how beloved was the one who has fled, Oh! that those lips had language! life has pass'd No voice so sweet attunes his cares to rest, Thus charm'd to sweet repose, when twilight hours 3 A life which had been so blameless and so blessed, that only such a death could crown it, by proving what an angel a woman can be in doing, feeling, and suffering. Klopstock added, with strong emotion, "Be my guardian angel." She answered, with a look of undying love, "Who would not be so?" He indulged, after her death, the fond thought that she hovered, a guardian spirit, near him still." Across the threshold led, And every tear kiss'd off as soon as shed, 1 Moore. 2 Cowper (On his Mother's Picture). 3 Darwin, Bot. Gard, canto 3. 4 Klopstock's Meta. See Loves of the Poets. His house she enters, there to be a light Oh! she was good as she was fair, And as she grew, her modest grace, Her downcast look, 't was heaven to trace; She half-inclined to sadness. Her voice, whate'er she said, enchanted, Like music, to the heart it went; Something than beauty dearer, should they look Una ninfa sì bella e sì gentile; Ma che dissi una ninfa ? anzi una Dea, 1 Rogers (Human Life). 2 Rogers (Jacquelin). |