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‹‹‹ prev (215) Page 197Page 197Queen Mary's lamentation

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Above, tho' opprest by my fate,
I burn with contempt for my foes,
Tho' fortune has alter 'd my state.
She ne'er can subdue me to those.
False woman ! in ages to come
Thy malice detested shall be,
And when we are cold in the tomb,
Some heart still will sorrow for me.
Ye roofs, where cold damps and dismay
With silence and solitude dwell,
How comfortless passes the day !
How sad tolls the evening bell!
The owls from the battlements cry,
Hollow wind seems to murmur around,
' O, Mary, prepare thee to die,'
My blood it runs cold at the sound.
Haste, haste, nor lose the favouring hour,
Thy victim now is in thy power,
Hell's dark'ning chains at length have found him.
Soon his soul repenting will strive to fly,
But struggling is vain,
When hell links the chain,
Oh, nought can break the fetters round him —
Revenge! revenge! thy triumph is nigh.

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