The Poetry Corner

Adieux Marie Stuart

By Algernon Charles Swinburne

I. Queen, for whose house my fathers fought, With hopes that rose and fell, Red star of boyhoods fiery thought, Farewell They gave their lives, and I, my queen, Have given you of my life, Seeing your brave star burn high between Mens strife. The strife that lightened round their spears Long since fell still: so long Hardly may hope to last in years My song. But still through strife of time and thought Your light on me too fell: Queen, in whose name we sang or fought, Farewell. II. There beats no heart on either border Wherethrough the north blasts blow But keeps your memory as a warder His beacon-fire aglow. Long since it fired with love and wonder Mine, for whose April age Blithe midsummer made banquet under The shade of Hermitage. Soft sang the burns blithe notes, that gather Strength to ring true: And air and trees and sun and heather Remembered you. Old border ghosts of fight or fairy Or love or teen, These they forgot, remembering Mary The Queen. III. Queen once of Scots and ever of ours Whose sires brought forth for you Their lives to strew your way like flowers, Adieu. Dead is full many a dead mans name Who died for you this long Time past: shall this too fare the same, My song? But surely, though it die or live, Your face was worth All that a man may think to give On earth. No darkness cast of years between Can darken you: Mans love will never bid my queen Adieu. IV. Love hangs like light about your name As music round the shell: No heart can take of you a tame Farewell. Yet, when your very face was seen, Ill gifts were yours for giving: Love gat strange guerdons of my queen When living. O diamond heart unflawed and clear, The whole worlds crowning jewel! Was ever heart so deadly dear So cruel? Yet none for you of all that bled Grudged once one drop that fell: Not one to life reluctant said Farewell V. Strange love they have given you, love disloyal, Who mock with praise your name, To leave a head so rare and royal Too low for praise or blame. You could not love nor hate, they tell us, You had nor sense nor sting: In Gods name, then, what plague befell us To fight for such a thing? Some faults the gods will give to fetter Mans highest intent: But surely you were something better Than innocent ! No maid that strays with steps unwary Through snares unseen, But one to live and die for; Mary, The Queen. VI. Forgive them all their praise, who blot Your fame with praise of you: Then love may say, and falter not Adieu. Yet some you hardly would forgive Who did you much less wrong Once: but resentment should not live Too long. They never saw your lips bright bow, Your swordbright eyes, The bluest of heavenly things below The skies. Clear eyes that loves self finds most like A swordblades blue, A swordblades ever keen to strike, Adieu. VII. Though all things breathe or sound of fight That yet make up your spell, To bid you were to bid the light Farewell Farewell the song says only, being A star whose race is run: Farewell the soul says never, seeing The sun. Yet, wellnigh as with flash of tears, The song must say but so That took your praise up twenty years Ago, More bright than stars or moons that vary, Sun kindling heaven and hell, Here, after all these years, Queen Mary, Farewell