Do thou persist: for, faint but in resolve,

And it were better thou hadst still remained

The slave of thine own slaves, who tear like curs
The fugitive, and flee from the pursuer ;

And Opportunity, that empty wolf,

Flies at his throat who falls. Subdue thy actions,
Even to the disposition of thy purpose,

And be that tempered as the Ebro's steel;
And banish weak-eyed Mercy to the weak

Whence she will greet thee with the gift of peace,
And not betray thee with a traitor's kiss,
As when she keeps the company of rebels,
Who think that she is Fear. This do, lest we
Should fall as from a glorious pinnacle

In a bright dream, and wake as from a dream
Out of our worshipped state.

*

Your brain is overwrought with these deep thoughts;
Come, I will sing to you; let us go try
These airs from Italy,—and you shall see
A cradled miniature of yourself asleep,
Stamped on the heart by never-erring love;
Liker than any Vandyke ever made,

A pattern to the unborn age of thee,
Over whose sweet beauty I have wept for joy

A thousand times, and now should weep for sorrow,

Did I not think that after we were dead

Our fortunes would spring high in him, and that
The cares we waste upon our heavy crown
Would make it light and glorious as a wreath
Of heaven's beams for his dear innocent brow.

KING.

Dear Henrietta!

*

SCENE III.

HAMPDEN, PYM, CROMWELL, and the younger VANE.

HAMPDEN.

England, farewell! thou, who hast been my cradle,
Shalt never be my dungeon or my grave!

I held what I inherited in thee,

As pawn for that inheritance of freedom

Which thou hast sold for thy despoiler's smile:
How can I call thee England, or my country?
Does the wind hold?

VANE.

The vanes sit steady

Upon the Abbey towers. The silver lightnings
Of the evening star, spite of the city's smoke,
Tell that the north wind reigns in the upper air.
Mark too that flock of fleecy winged clouds

Sailing athwart St. Margaret's.

HAMPDEN.

Hail, fleet herald

Of tempest! that wild pilot who shall guide
Hearts free as his, to realms as pure as thee,
Beyond the shot of tyranny! And thou,
Fair star, whose beam lies on the wide Atlantic,
Athwart its zones of tempest and of calm,
Bright as the path to a beloved home,

O light us to the isles of th' evening land!
Like floating Edens, cradled in the glimmer
Of sunset, through the distant mist of years

Tinged by departing Hope, they gleam! Lone regions,
Where power's poor dupes and victims, yet have never
Propitiated the savage fear of kings

With purest blood of noblest hearts; whose dew
Is yet unstained with tears of those who wake
To weep each day the wrongs on which it dawns ;
Whose sacred silent air owns yet no echo

Of formal blasphemies; nor impious rites
Wrest man's free worship from the God who loves
Towards the worm, who envies us his love,
Receive thou young [ ] of Paradise,

These exiles from the old and sinful world!
This glorious clime, this firmament, whose lights
Dart mitigated influence through the veil

Of pale blue atmosphere; whose tears keep green
The pavement of this moist all-feeding earth,
This vaporous horizon; whose dim round

Is bastioned by the circumfluous sea,

Repelling invasion from the sacred towers,
Presses upon me like a dungeon's grate,

A low dark roof, a damp and narrow vault :
The mighty universe becomes a cell

Too narrow for the soul that owns no master.
While the loathliest spot

Of this wide prison, England, is a nest

Of cradled peace built on the mountain tops,

To which the eagle-spirits of the free,

Which range through heaven and earth, and scorn the storm

Of time, and gaze upon the light of truth,

Return to brood over the [

] thoughts

That cannot die, and may not be repelled.

* That offered by the Jung-frau. See Ecclesiastical Sonnets, No. xxxvi.

L

On the day of Charles's death the Independents, who now constituted the House of Commons, made it high treason to proclaim his son the prince of Wales king. This was followed by the execution of the marquis of Hamilton and lords Holland and Capel, and by the abolition of the house of peers. The latter act was carried by a majority of forty-four to twenty-nine, Henry Martin proposing that their existence should be described in the bill as "useless," not " dangerous," into such contempt had the lords, who had aided the rebels, grown. The form and discipline of the Presbyterian kirk were retained; but those fanatics were not permitted to persecute; it sufficed, to escape the old penal code, that men did not attack the broad principles of Christianity.

It was necessary to reconstruct the treason laws, and here the commons entirely lost sight of every principle of liberty. They made it treason to affirm that the commonwealth was unlawful, usurped, or tyrannical; treason to plot or conspire against it or the council of state; treason for anyone in the army to stir up mutiny. Words spoken were made capital. The press was put into shackles, and extreme punishments declared against such as printed or put forth anything against the council, &c.

In the meantime the Scots, who had declared themselves shocked and outraged by the king's murder, proclaimed the prince of Wales king; while in Ireland, he was proclaimed by the marquis of Ormond. But he did not at first accept the invitation of either country to go to it. Ireland was in too disturbed a state, and Scotland insisted on his taking the covenant. In Ireland his hopes were soon crushed. Cromwell was sent there with his son-in-law, Ireton, with six thousand foot, and three thousand horse; an army of Ironsides, well disciplined and officered, and with a great train of artillery. The barbarous troops of O'Neal, and the few royalists commanded by Ormond, were no match for his soldiers. He overran the country, and treated the conquered people with shocking inhumanity, putting every garrison that held out to the sword, without exception of age or of sex. terrible were these cruelties, that to this day the Irish peasants' imprecation, "The curse of Cromwell be upon you!" keeps the memory of them.

So

On his return to England he received the thanks of the house of commons for the success of this campaign of extermination, and (as Fairfax refused to serve against Presbyterians) he was immediately afterwards sent as general to Scotland, at the head of sixteen thousand men.

Meantime Montrose had landed in Scotland once more to fight for his king; but the Presbyterians would not tolerate such aid to the sovereign (whom they had proclaimed, but meant to rule themselves). They sent out their general Strachan against the great marquis, who was surprised at the pass of Invercharron. He repulsed the first charge of the covenanters, but had the mortification of seeing his men lay down their arms at the second. He fled, and for a time escaped, but was finally betrayed by a supposed friend, and executed with barbarous inhumanity by the covenanters.