Page:Poems Sigourney 1827.pdf/174

As if her spirit equally contemn'd
Both life and death?—Is this the widow'd queen
Who for her people, and her children's rights,
Her simple shelter, and her husband's tomb
Stood boldly forth?—Her foes admiring mark
Her high demeanour, and with deference ask
For her request.—"Due treatment to a queen,
And to a woman's honour."—
                                                It would seem
As if those lips by Nature had been taught
The accent of command.—But when she saw
That in her victor's breasts compassion wrought,
A gentle tone of soft entreaty woke,—
"I ask my children's life."—
                                            —Ah!—there spoke forth
Her woman's nature.—The demand was first
What haughty Philip's representative,
A nation's guardian, and a warrior-queen,
Was bound to stipulate.—That boon obtain'd,
Affection urged its claim,—and rushing brought
The first, last wish of every mother's heart,—
Her children.—
                        —Spirits of the brave and free!—
Sons of my native state!—Ye circled round
That queen in her adversity.—High souls!—
In warfare lions,—but in pity mild
As the shorn lamb;—ye gave that sacred boon
Which Rome, in all her glory, sternly snatch'd
From Boadicea,—freedom.
                                           But to what
Must she return?—What!—but a ruin'd realm,—