e strife of the soul on the delicate brow was written in flame:
And Elizabeth call'd 'O Father, why does she look at me so?
Will it soon be better for Anne? her face is all in a glow':--
But with womanly speed and heed is the mother beside her, and slips
Her arm 'neath the failing head, and moistens the rose of the lips,
Pale and sweet as the wild rose of June, and whispers to pray
To the Father in heaven, 'the one she likes best, my baby, to say':
And the soul hover'd yet o'er the lips, as a dove when her pinions are
spread,
And the light of the after-life came again in her eyes, and she said;
'For my long prayer it is not time; for my short one I think I have
breath;
_Lighten mine eyes, O Lord, that I sleep not the sleep of death_.'
--O! into life, fair child, as she pray'd, her innocence slept!
'It is better for her,' they said:--and knelt, and kiss'd her, and wept.

_In her_; Henrietta's mother was by birth Mary de' Medici; the
great-grandmother of Charles was Mary of Guise.

'With Charles I,' says Ranke, 'nothing was more seductive than secrecy.
The contradictions in his conduct entangled him in embarrassments, in
which his declarations, if always true in the sense he privately gave
them, were only a hair's-breadth removed from actual, and even from
intentional, untruth.'--Whether traceable to descent, or to the evil
influence of Buckingham and the intriguing atmosphere of the Spanish
marriage-negotiations, this defect in political honesty is,
unquestionably, the one serious blot on the character of Charles I.--Yet,
whilst noting it, candid students will regretfully confess that the
career of Elizabeth and her counsellors is defaced by shades of bad
faith, darker and more numerous.

_When the kingdom_; See Clarendon's description of England during this
period, 'enjoying the greatest calm and the fullest measure of felicity
that any people in any age for so long time together have been blessed
with.'

_Three golden heads_; Mary, the second child of Charles and Henrietta,
was born Nov. 4, 1631: Elizabeth, Dec. 28, 1635: Anne, Mar. 17, 1637. The
last two were feeble from infancy. Consumption soon showed itself in
Anne, and her short life, passed at Richmond, closed in November, 1640.
For her last words, we are indebted to Fuller, who adds: 'This done, the
little lamb gave up the ghost.'

The affection and care of the royal parents is well attested. 'Their
arrival,' when visiting the nursery, 'was the signal