British Women Romantic Poets Project

Elegy to the Memory of Her Royal Highness the Princess Charlotte of Wales.

Cockle, Mary.


Leigh Rios, -- creation of electronic text.

Electronic edition 9 Kb
British Women Romantic Poets Project
Shields Library, University of California, Davis, California 95616
2001
I.D. No. CockMElegyTo

Copyright (c) 2001, University of California

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Available at: http://www.lib.ucdavis.edu/English/BWRP/Works/CockMElegyTo.sgm

Davis British Women Romantic Poets Series

I.D. No. 83
Nancy Kushigian, -- General Editor
Charlotte Payne, -- Managing Editor


Elegy to the memory of Her Royal Highness Princess Charlotte of Wales

Cockle, Mary


Printed by S. Hodgson, Union-Street
Newcastle upon Tyne,
1817

[This text was scanned from its original in the Shields Library Kohler Collection, University of California, Davis. Kohler ID no. I:235. Another copy available on microfilm as Kohler I:235mf.]


The editors thank the Shields Library, University of California, Davis, for its support for this project.

Purchase of software has been made possible by a research grant from the Librarians' Association of the University of California, Davis chapter.

All poems, line groups, and lines are represented. All material originally typeset has been preserved, with the exception of running heads, the original prose line breaks, signature markings and decorative typographical elements. Page numbers and page breaks have been preserved. Pencilled annotations and other damage to the text have not been preserved.



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[Title page]



Page [1]

Elegy
TO THE
Memory of Her Royal Highness
THE
PRINCESS CHARLOTTE OF WALES.

BY

MRS. COCKLE.


Newcastle upon Tyne:

PRINTED BY S. HODGSON, UNION-STREET.MDCCCXVII.
Page [2]

Only twenty copies printed.




Page [3]

Elegy.

            ------"What tho' short thy date,
        "Virtue, not rolling Suns, the mind matures.
        "That Life is long, which answers Life's great End."
YOUNG.

A KINGDOM mourns--a NATION'S sorrows flow;
And public anguish joins the private woe!
A star is set!--that star, whose cheering light
Pierc'd the deep gloom of Britain's wintry night,
And, in the radiance of its early ray,
Gave the rich promise of a cloudless day;
Yet set to rise--within a purer sky,
With the bright beams of Immortality!


Page 4

Lost Hope--lost blessing of a Princely race,
Where fair perfection shew'd each ripen'd grace!
Not Her's alone that high ennobling worth,
That lends new lustre to the claims of Birth,
Those proud adornments, that exalting wait,
Around "the pomp and circumstance" of state,
The humbler virtues, in her spotless breast,
Found the dear shelter of domestic rest,
'Midst all the tenderest sympathies of life,
The sacred ties of Daughter, Friend, and Wife;
Those envied ties, that in possession prove,
The heart's best refuge is the Home of Love.

Where'er she mov'd, the fervent pray'r arose
Of grateful sorrow's mitigated woes--
Her open hand the liberal boon supplied,
And gave to Pity, all to Pomp denied;
Whilst Charity diffus'd, with angel gleam,
With cheering influence, its celestial beam.


Page 5

When Heaven, indulgent to a nation's pray'r,
Gave in fond hope an added blessing there,
And her own Britain, 'midst each offer'd vow,
Hail'd the new lustre circling o'er her brow,
Joy rais'd her radiant eye, and smiling wove
A fairer garland with the flowers of love:
Nor mark'd, whilst bending o'er the glowing wreath,
The blighting mildew, and the worm of Death.

Lamented Princess! thus in beauty's morn,
From thy gay dream of nuptial pleasures torn;
In the keen anguish of that struggling hour,
When suffering taught thee its subduing pow'r,
And nature, trembling at the unequal strife,
Recall'd the tie that gave thee back to life;
'Midst each NEW feeling rushing to thy soul,
What stronger impulse in its full controul
Sooth'd the keen anguish of maternal woe,
Amidst those feelings only mothers know?


Page 6

Bade thy young bosom, whilst it beating strove
With the first transports of Parental Love,
With tried, and holy confidence resign
The Child of Heaven? alas no longer thine!

'Twas meek Religion, stealing thro' the gloom,
And pious Hope --reposing on the Tomb,
And Christian Fortitude with eagle eye,
That looks from Earth to Immortality,
And Christian Faith , that soars with eagle wings
From Life's poor pageants to the KING OF KINGS,
And, in that hallow'd title, saw thee own
The passing splendour of an earthly Crown,
Exchange the lustre of its transient rays
For the bright circlet of Eternal days.

And thou, sad mourner, destin'd yet to bear
Thy Cross of suffering whilst a pilgrim here,


Page 7

By her instructed, raise thy drooping eye
To the bright angel in her native sky;
See her with angel powers, with angel form,
Thy guardian seraph thro' life's certain storm,
Till the pure spirits, re-united prove,
The unchanging blessings of Immortal Love.

That power supreme, whose universal gaze
The Peasant's as the Prince's lot surveys,
Who veils his mercies from our feeble eyes,
And clothes them oft in sorrow's dark disguise,
Took her all spotless, from an Earthly Throne,
To happier kingdoms and a brighter Crown--
That Crown, which offer'd by Redeeming Love,
The bright reward of heavenly trust shall prove,
A Crown, that purchas'd with a Saviour's blood,
Awaits the young, the guiltless, and the good.

FINIS.