Did your letters pierce the Queen
Did your letters pierce the Queen to any demonstration
Ay, sir, she took them, read them in my presence,
And now and then an ample tear trilled down
Her delicate cheek. It seemed she was a queen
Over her passion, who, most rebel-like,
Fought to be king o'er her.
O, then it moved her.
Not to a rage. Patience and sorrow strove
Who should express her goodliest. You have seen
Sunshine and rain at once; her smiles and tears
Were like a better way. Those happy smilets
That played on her ripe lip seemed not to know
What guests were in her eyes, which parted thence
As pearls from diamonds dropped. In brief,
Sorrow would be a rarity most beloved
If all could so become it.
Made she no verbal question?
Faith, once or twice she heaved the name of “father”
Pantingly forth, as if it pressed her heart;
Cried “Sisters, sisters, shame of ladies, sisters!
Kent, father, sisters! What, i' th' storm, i' th' night?
Let pity not be believed!” There she shook
The holy water from her heavenly eyes,
And clamor moistened. Then away she started,
To deal with grief alone.
It is the stars.
The stars above us govern our conditions,
Else one self mate and make could not beget
Such different issues.