UNLESS to Peter's Chair the viewless wind
Must come and ask permission when to blow,
What further empire would it have? for now
A ghostly Domination, unconfined

As that by dreaming Bards to Love assigned,
Sits there in sober truth. to raise the low,

--

rebuff

Perplex the wise, the strong to overthrow
Through earth and heaven to bind and to unbind!
Resist- the thunder quails thee! - crouch -
Shall be thy recompense! from land to land
The ancient thrones of Christendom are stuff
For occupation of a magic wand,
And 'tis the Pope that wields it:

– whether rough Or smooth his front, our world is in his hand!

155

ECCLESIASTICAL SKETCHES.

PART II.

TO THE CLOSE OF THE TROUBLES IN THE REIGN OF CHARLES I.

I. CISTERTIAN MONASTERY.

"HERE Man more purely lives, less oft doth fall,*
“ More promptly rises, walks with nicer heed,
"More safely rests, dies happier, is freed

"Earlier from cleansing fires, and gains withal
"A brighter crown.” On

yon

Cistertian wall

That confident assurance may be read;

And, to like shelter, from the world have fled
Increasing multitudes. The potent call

Doubtless shall cheat full oft the heart's desires;
Yet, while the rugged Age on pliant knee
Vows to rapt Fancy humble fealty,

A gentler life spreads round the holy spires;
Where'er they rise, the sylvan waste retires,
And aëry harvests crown the fertile lea.

* See note, p. 198,

RECORD We too, with just and faithful pen,
That many hooded Cenobites there are,
Who in their private Cells have yet a care
Of public quiet; unambitious Men,
Counsellors for the world, of piercing ken;
Whose fervent exhortations from afar
Move Princes to their duty, peace or war;
And oft-times in the most forbidding den
Of solitude, with love of science strong,
How patiently the yoke of thought they bear!
How subtly glide its finest threads along!
Spirits that crowd the intellectual sphere
With mazy boundaries, as the Astronomer
With orb and cycle girds the starry throng.

AND, not in vain embodied to the sight,
Religion finds even in the stern retreat
Of feudal Sway her own appropriate seat;
From the Collegiate pomps on Windsor's height,
Down to the humble altar, which the Knight
And his Retainers of the embattled hall
Seek in domestic oratory small,

For prayer in stillness, or the chanted rite;
Then chiefly dear, when foes are planted round,
Who teach the intrepid guardians of the place,
Hourly exposed to death, with famine worn,
And suffering under many a perilous wound,
How sad would be their durance, if forlorn
Of offices dispensing heavenly grace!

AND what melodious sounds at times prevail !
And, ever and anon, how bright a gleam
Pours on the surface of the turbid Stream!
What heartfelt fragrance mingles with the gale
That swells the bosom of our passing sail!
For where, but on this River's margin, blow
Those flowers of Chivalry, to bind the brow
Of hardihood with wreaths that shall not fail?
Fair Court of Edward! wonder of the world!
I see a matchless blazonry unfurled
Of wisdom, magnanimity, and love;

And meekness tempering honourable pride;
The Lamb is couching by the Lion's side,
And near the flame-eyed Eagle sits the Dove.

V..

CRUSADERS.

NOR can Imagination quit the shores

Of these bright scenes without a farewell glance
Given to those dream-like Issues that Romance
Of many-coloured life which Fortune pours
Round the Crusaders, till on distant shores
Their labours end; or they return to lie,
The vow performed, in cross-legged effigy,
Devoutly stretched upon their chancel floors.
Am I deceived? Or is their requiem chanted
By voices never mute when Heaven unties
Her inmost, softest, tenderest harmonies;

Requiem which Earth takes up with voice undaunted,
When she would tell how Good, and Brave, and Wise,
For their high guerdon not in vain have panted!

ENOUGH! for see, with dim association
The tapers burn; the odorous incense feeds
A greedy flame; the pompous mass proceeds;
The Priest bestows the appointed consecration ;
And, while the Host is raised, its elevation
An awe and supernatural horror breeds,
And all the People bow their heads, like reeds
To a soft breeze, in lowly adoration.

This Valdo brooked not. On the banks of Rhone
He taught, till persecution chased him thence,
To adore the Invisible, and Him alone.

Nor were his Followers loth to seek defence,
Mid woods and wilds, on Nature's craggy throne,
From rites that trample upon soul and sense.

THESE who gave earliest notice, as the Lark
Springs from the ground the morn to gratulate;
Who rather rose the day to antedate,

By striking out a solitary spark,

When all the world with midnight gloom was dark
These Harbingers of good, whom bitter hate
In vain endeavoured to exterminate,

Fell Obloquy pursues with hideous bark; *
But they desist not; and the sacred fire,
Rekindled thus, from dens and savage woods
Moves, handed on with never-ceasing care,
Through courts, through camps, o'er limitary floods;
Nor lacks this sea-girt Isle a timely share
Of the new Flame, not suffered to expire.

* See note, p. 199.