Too well I know, pacing the place of awe,
Three Queens, young save in trouble, moulder by;
More in his halo, Monmouth's mocking eye,
The eagle Essex in a harpy's claw;
Seymour and Dudley, and stout heads that saw
Sundown of Scotland; how with treasons lie
White martyrdoms: rank in a company
Breaker and builder of the eternal Law.
Oft as I come, the piteous garden-row
Of ruined roses hanging from the stem,
Where winds of old defeat yet batter them,
Infects me: suddenly must I depart,
Ere thought of man's injustice then and now
Add to these aisles one other broken heart.