A monarch on his death-bed lay - <br />Did censors waft perfume, <br />And soft lamps pour their silvery ray, <br />Thro' his proud chamber's gloom? <br />He lay upon a greensward bed, <br />Beneath a dark'ning sky - <br />A lone tree waving o'er his head, <br />A swift stream rolling by. <br /> <br />Had he then fall'n as warriors fall, <br />Where spear strikes fire with spear? <br />Was there a banner for his pall, <br />A buckler for his bier? <br />Not so;–nor cloven shields nor helms <br />Had strewn the bloody sod, <br />Where he, the helpless lord of realms, <br />Yielded his soul to God. <br /> <br />Were there not friends with words of cheer, <br />And princely vassals nigh? <br />And priests, the crucifix to rear <br />Before the glazing eye? <br />A peasant girl that royal head <br />Upon her bosom laid, <br />And, shrinking not for woman's dread, <br />The face of death survey'd. <br /> <br />Alone she sat: -– from hill and wood <br />Red sank the mournful sun; <br />Fast gush'd the fount of noble blood, - <br />Treason its worst had done! <br />With her long hair she vainly press' <br />The wounds, to staunch their tide - <br />Unknown, on that meek humble breast, <br />Imperial Albert died!<br /><br />Felicia Dorothea Hemans<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/a-monarch-s-death-bed/
