Poems (Curwen)/To Princess Beatrice, on the Death of Prince Henry of Battenberg

by Annie Isabel Curwen

To H. R. H. Princess Beatrice, on the Death of Prince Henry of Battenberg.

Dear daughter of our land,
Sorrow's dark, heavy hand
  Has crushed thee down,
And bade thy pale lips sup
From out her bitterest cup;
  And set the crown—

The widow's crown—upon
Thy brow, beloved one,
  Wrenching apart
The bonds that love had bound
With fond affection round
  About thy heart.

Dear daughter of our land,
We mothers understand
  Thy sore distress;
And so we offer thee
Our loving sympathy,
  With tenderness.

As wives, we feel in part
The anguish of thy heart;
  As mothers, guess
The grief it is to thee
Thy little ones to see
  Thus fatherless.

We cannot bear thy cross,
We cannot ease thy loss,
  But we can pray
That love, the Love Divine,
May comfort thee, and thine,
  This mournful day.