Classic Poem

Enter T TURKILL and B IRTHA .

EMMA.

Bear this, my answer, to your gen'rous Lord.
Crowns may have charms for some, but he that sues
For Emma's true esteem, must offer more.

TURKILL.

Impossible! the world affords no joy.
Surpassing Empire, Pomp, and happy Love.

EMMA.

Thou talk'st like one, whose views Creation bounds;
Know, these, when Honor bids, I greatly scorn.
Thou say'st, Canutus wishes much to name Me
For ever his.

TURKILL.

Beyond all else but Heaven.

EMMA.

I take thy word. Ambition's fleeting joys,
And all the guilty boast of conqu'ring power,
He will resign, with Britain's Crown, to Edmund:
Nay, start not, Dane. On this condition only
Can I be his.

TURKILL.

Resign the British Crown!
For which the North, for many a tedious year,
Has sent her sons to bleed on distant coasts,
Unwept, unhonour'd, giv'n to birds of prey?
It must not Lady; no, it cannot be.

EMMA.

Hear then my awful oath, Angelic Powers!
By all your mystic glories, thus I swear —
Never to plight my Faith, with great Canutus,
Till Edmund leads me to the sacred Altar,
And there avers him, his and England's friend,

TURKILL.

Tremendous vow! Death only breaks the bond,
Recall it, Princess, e'er th' attesting Angel
Grave it on heav'nly records.

EMMA.

May the stings,
That perjur'd bosoms feel, envenom mine,
If e'er I break it! Now thou know'st my answer,
Perhaps his fond remembrance still is dear:
But it avails not.

TURKILL.

That forbidding eye
Prevents my further prayers. Great Queen farewell

EMMA.

At length conflicts o'er. — Now sooth me, Conscience,
With sweet applause. Come, Friendship, pour thy balm
On this torn heart: I've given him up for ever.
Yet, great Canutus, must thou own my conduct
Has not disgrac'd thy love. What, hast thou kept
The picture?

BIRTHA.

Shall I bear it to the Dane?

EMMA.

No! Let me gaze. Honor forbids not this.
Lord of my heart, thou shalt be treasur'd here:
Nought, but the chilling grasp of Death, shall tear
Away thy fond remembrance. Soon, too soon,
The battle must begin. Then will Canutus,
Griev'd at my scorn, expose his sacred life
To certain danger. Should he fall, I charge thee,
(For my heart tells, shall not long survive him)
Inter us in one grave. Oh! lead me hence,
Where I may weep unnotic'd by the World.