At length, from sceptred care and deadly state, From galling censure and ill-omened hate, From the vain grandeur where I lately shone, From Cronsberg's prison and from Denmark's throne, I go! Here, fatal greatness! thy delusion ends! A humbler lot thy closing scene attends. Denmark, farewell! a long, a last adieu! Thy lessening prospect now recedes from view; No lingering look an ill-starred crown deplores, Well pleased, I quit thy sanguinary shores! Thy shores, where victims doomed to state and me, Fell helpless Brandt and murdered Struensee! Thy shores where--ah! in adverse hour I came, To me the grave of happiness and fame! Alas! how different then my vessel lay; What crowds of flatterers hastened to obey! What numbers flew to hail the rising sun, How few now bend to that whose course is run! By fate deprived of fortune's fleeting train, Now, "all the oblig'd desert and all the vain." But conscious worth, that censure can control, Shall 'gainst the charges arm my steady soul-- Shall teach the guiltless mind alike to bear The smiles of pleasure or the frowns of care. Denmark, farewell; for thee no sighs depart, But love maternal rends my bleeding heart. Oh! Cronsberg's tower, where my poor infant lies, Why, why, so soon recede you from my eyes? Yet, stay--ah! me, nor hope nor prayer prevails-- For ever exiled hence, Matilda sails. Keith! formed to smooth the path affection treads, And dry the tears that friendless sorrow sheds, Oh! generous Keith, protect their helpless state, And save my infants from impending fate! Far, far from deadly pomp each thought remove, And, as to me, their guardian angel prove! Yes, Julia, _now_ superior force prevails, And all my boasted resolution fails! Before taking leave of Kronborg, I may be permitted to insert an anecdote related by my grandfather in his "Travels in the North." When he visited Kronborg, in 1774, a poor fettered slave came up and addressed him in French. Mr. Wraxall then commenced a conversation with him, and asked him if he were here when Queen Matilda was in confinement. "Ah! Monsieur," the prisoner replied, "I saw her every day. I had the honour to turn the spit for her Majesty's dinner. She even promised to endeavour to obtain me my liberty. I assure you," he added warmly, "that she was the most amiable princess in the world." Whether the man said this because he believed it would please an Englishman, or whether it was the genuine effusion of respectful gratitude, my grandfather was unable to say, but could not resist the compliment to an English and injured queen.