The bark that held a prince went down, The sweeping waves rolled on ; And what was England’s glorious crown To him that wept a son ? He lived—for life may long be borne Ere sorrow break its chain ; Why comes not death to those who mourn ? He never smiled again. There stood proud forms around his throne, The stately and the brave ; But what could fill the place of one, That one beneath the wave ? Before him passed the young and fair, In pleasure’s reckless train ; But seas dashed o’er his son’s bright hair— He never smiled again ! He sat where festal bowls went round, He heard the minstrel sing, He saw the tourney’s victory crowned Amidst the knightly ring ; A murmur of the restless deep Was blent with every strain, A voice of winds that could not sleep— He never smiled again ! Hearts in that time closed o’er the trace Of vows once fondly poured, And strangers took the kinsman’s place At many a joyous board. Graves, which true love had bathed with tears, Were left to heaven’s bright rain ; Fresh hopes were born for other years— He never smiled again !