THE SAINTED QUEEN. BY REV. WM. THAYER. LOUD rang the welkin dome at morn, O'er hill and dale of France. Strange contrast in the wedded pair! The bridegroom from the throne of Kent, Reared, like the Druid's mistletoe, 'Neath clouds and sweeping storm; Won by the magic power of love, The eagle caught the gentle dove. So stood the Saxon Ethelbert; His costume marked his life; Himself a Pagan worshipper,A saint his angel-wife; Strange two such adverse hearts should meet, The wedded race to run! Strange two opposing streams of life Should mingle into one! Had Bertha hope that she could bring Roll on, ye chariot-wheels of time, No queen drank deeper draught of bliss Her orisons went up to God, At morn and eventide ; His richest benison came down The Spirit left the throne to bring Salvation to the Saxon king. |