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The salt sea was frozen on her breast,
The salt tears in her eyes;
And he saw her hair, like the brown seaweed,
On the billows fall and rise.
THE GLOVE AND THE LIONS.-Leigh Hunt.
King Fran- KING FRANCIS was a hearty king, and loved a royal
I. of France.
the lions; the
And one day, as his lions strove, sat looking on the
The nobles filled the benches round, the ladies by
to make his bride :
And 'mongst them Count de Lorge, with one he hoped
And truly 'twas a gallant* thing to see that crown
lion is called Valour* and love, and a king above, and the royal
the king of
Ramped and roared the lions, with horrid laughing
With wallowing might and stifled roar they rolled on
Io Till all the pit, with sand and mane, was in a thun
Ramped, leaped about in a furious manner.
Glared, looked fiercely.
The bloody foam above the bars came whizzing a noise like through the air;
Said Francis then: "Faith, gentlemen, we're better
here than there!"
De Lorge's love o'erheard the king, a beauteous,* lively Beauteous,
With smiling lips, and sharp bright eyes, which
15 She thought: "The Count, my lover, is as brave as
brave can be ;
He surely would do desperate* things to show his love Desperate,
fearless of danger, rash.
King, ladies, lovers, all look on; the occasion is Occasion,
opportunity, time, chance.
divine, I'll drop my glove to prove his love; great glory Prove, try, will be mine!"
She dropped her glove to prove his love; then looked
on him and smiled;
He bowed, and in a moment leaped among the lions
The leap was quick; return was quick; he soon
Then threw the glove, but not with love, right in the
"In truth," cried Francis, "rightly done!" and he
rose from where he sat :
"No love," quoth he, "but vanity,* sets love a task
Vanity, little pride, idle show.
WHAT stronger breastplate than a heart untainted?
MARY, QUEEN OF SCOTS.*-H. G. Bell.
HENRY GLASSFORD BELL (1814-1874) was educated for the law, and was, at the time of his death, the Sheriff of Lanarkshire. He had very considerable literary taste, and was a frequent contributor to the Magazines.
A stately convent, the
on the island of Inch
I LOOKED far back into other years, and lo! in
I saw, as in a dream, the forms of ages passed
mahome ("isle of And gardens with their broad green walks,
rest"), in the Lake of Menteith, Perthshire. Antique, old-fashioned.
Five noble maidens, Mary, Queen of Scots, and four other Maries
Mary Carmichael, Mary Hamilton, Mary Seton, and Mary Bea
ton-who are known
in history as the "Queen's Maries." Recked, cared.
Stuart line, Robert, the High Steward of
to the throne on the
death of David II.
He was the first of the famous House of Stuart, and Mary was descended in a direct line from him.
Courtiers, nobles living at court.
And o'er the antique * dial-stone the creeping 5
And, all around, the noon-day sun a drowsy
cloister * dim
No sound of busy life was heard, save from the
that first budding spring of youth when all
And little recked* they, when they sang, or
That Scotland knew no prouder names-held
And little even the loveliest thought, before the
Of royal blood and high descent from the
The scene was changed. It was the court, the
And 'neath a thousand silver lamps a thou-
* Mary, Queen of Scots, was born at Linlithgow in 1542, a few days before the death of her father, James V. In 1558 she was married to Francis, the Dauphin of France, who died the next year, and Mary returned to Scotland in 1561. Her own subjects rebelled, and defeated her troops at Langside in 1568. She then fled to England, where she was executed by order of Elizabeth in 1587.
in-law, Henry II. of
And proudly kindles Henry's eye-well Henry, Mary's fatherpleased, I ween,* to see [chivalry :20 The land assemble all its wealth of grace and Grey Montmorency,* o'er whose head has passed a storm of years,
Strong in himself and children, stands the first
And next the Guises,* who so well fame's
And walked ambition's diamond ridge, where
bravest hearts have failed
25 And higher yet their path shall be, stronger
For before them Montmorency's star shall pale
Here Louis, Prince of Condé,* wears his all-
With great Coligni * by his side: each name a
And there walks she of Medicis,* that proud
[Catherine. 30 The mother of a race of kings-the haughty The forms that follow in her train a glorious sunshine make
A milky way of stars that grace a comet's
But fairer far than all the rest who bask* on
I am sure, I
ency, a peer, marquis,
of the 16th century.
The Guises, a princely
family of Lorraine, a province in the north
east of France.
Shall wax, shall be
come, or grow.
Bask, &c., those who
Effulgent in the light of youth, is she, the Effulgent, splendid.
35 The homage of a thousand hearts-the fond,
deep love of one
The hopes that dance around a life whose
They lighten up her chestnut eye, they mantle
o'er her cheek,
They sparkle on her open brow, and high
souled joy bespeak:
Ah! who shall blame, if scarce that day,
40 She thought of that quiet convent's calm, its
The scene was changed. It was a bark* that
slowly held its way,
A bark, a ship; this scene represents Mary on her voyage from France to Scotland in 1561.
And o'er its lee* the coast of France in the light Lee, the sheltered side
of evening lay;
of the ship.
And on its deck a Lady sat, who gazed with
Receding, fading from Upon the fast receding* hills, that dim and
No marvel that the lady wept,-there was no 45 land on earth
She loved like that dear land, although she
Iowed it not her birth ;
Her mother's land, It was her mother's land,* the land of child-
of the Duke of Guise.
Holyrood, the residence of the Scottish
sovereigns in Edinburgh. This scene
relates to the murder of Rizzio, an Italian
musician, whom Mary promoted to the office of her secretary.
Darnley, the Queen's
husband, led the con
spirators up a secret
stair to Mary's private room, where she was
sitting at supper with
a few of her attendants and Rizzio.
Blanched, made pale.
Traitor, one who betrays, a deceiver. Rebel, one who goes against lawful authority.
It was the land where she had found for all
The land where her dead husband slept-the
The tranquil convent's hushed repose, and the
No marvel that the lady wept-it was the land
The future, like the gathering night, was omi-
One gaze again-one long, last gaze—“ Adieu,
The breeze comes forth-she is alone on the
The scene was changed. It was an eve of raw
[rood And in a turret-chamber high of ancient HolySat Mary, listening to the rain, and sighing
with the winds,
That seemed to suit the stormy state of men's
The touch of care had blanched * her cheek—
weight of royalty had pressed too heavy
And traitors to her councils came, and rebels
Stuart sceptre well she swayed, but the
thought of all her blighted hopes-the
And summoned Rizzio with his lute, and bade
the minstrel play