A MONARCH on his deathbed lay -- Did censers waft perfume, And soft lamps poured their silvery ray, Through his proud chamber's gloom? He lay upon a greensward bed, Beneath a darkening sky -- A lone tree waving o'er his head, A swift stream rolling by. Had he then fallen as warriors fall, Where spear strikes fire with spear? Was there a banner for his pall, A buckler for his bier? Not so -- nor cloven shields nor helms Had strewn the bloody sod, Where he, the helpless lord of realms, Yielded his soul to God. Were there not friends with words of cheer, And princely vassals nigh? And priests, the crucifix to rear Before the glazing eye? A peasant girl that royal head Upon her bosom laid, And, shrinking not for woman's dread, The face of death surveyed. Alone she sat: from hill and wood Red sank the mournful sun; Fast gushed the fount of noble blood -- Treason its worst had done. With her long hair she vainly pressed The wounds, to stanch their tide -- Unknown, on that meek humble breast, Imperial Albert died! | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...TO HAFIZ by THOMAS BAILEY ALDRICH A WEATHER PROPHET by JANE BARLOW FRIENDSHIP by PIERRE JEAN DE BERANGER ONE THAT'S ON THE SEA by JOHN GARDINER CALKINS BRAINARD THE SPIRIT OF THE FALL by DANSKE CAROLINA (BEDINGER) DANDRIDGE MY BOOKS by JULIA JOHNSON DAVIS |