IN exile, widowed, childless, desolate, Thou sittest in the majesty of woe; And nations gaze, with shuddering murmurs ow, Upon the direful trilogy of Fate. Hushed are the warring interests of state Beneath the pall of Sorrow. Foes forego Their wonted discord, and with footsteps slow And meekened foreheads, move compassionate. All exiles weave their miseries with thine; All widows turn with sympathy to thee; All mothers desolate and childless made, Mingle their moan with this thine agony: And yet, to thee the royal lot is laid -- Threefold the cross that measures love divine. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE IRISH RAPPAREES; A PEASANT BALLAD OF 1691 by CHARLES GAVAN DUFFY A FRAGMENT OF AN EPIC POEM, OCCASIONED BY THE LOSS OF A GAME by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD MARIE MIGNOT by RICHARD HARRIS BARHAM LILIES: 23. FINALLY ALONE by GEORGE BARLOW (1847-1913) THE SINGERS OF DELLA ROBBIA by ALFRED BARRETT TO CLARE by EDMUND CHARLES BLUNDEN |