James and Mary Ford, eds. Every Day in the Year. 1902.
May 16Mary Queen of Scots
By William Wordsworth (17701850)
D
The Queen drew back the wimple that she wore;
And to the throng, that on the Cumbrian shore
Her landing hailed, how touchingly she bowed!
And like a Star (that from a heavy cloud
Of pine-tree foliage poised in air, forth darts,
When a soft summer gale at even parts
The gloom that did its loveliness enshroud)
She smiled; but Time, the old Saturnian seer,
Sighed on the wing as her foot pressed the strand,
With step prelusive to a long array
Of woes and degredations hand in hand—
Weeping captivity, and shuddering fear
Stilled by the ensanguined block of Fotheringay!