A BRIGHT-HAIRED company of youthful slaves, Beautiful strangers, stand within the pale Of a sad market, ranged for public sale, Where Tiber's stream the immortal City laves: ANGLI by name; and not an ANGEL waves His wing who could seem lovelier to man's eye Than they appear to holy Gregory; Who, having learnt that name, salvation craves For Them, and for their Land. The earnest Sire,
His questions urging, feels, in slender ties Of chiming sound, commanding sympathies: DE-IRIANS-he would save them from God's
Subjects of Saxon ELLA-they shall sing Glad HALLE-lujahs to the eternal King!
FOR ever hallowed be this morning fair,
Safe from the wintry tempest. Fluttering, Here did it enter; there, on hasty wing, Flies out, and passes on from cold to cold; But whence it came we know not, nor behold Whither it goes. Even such, that transient Thing,
The human Soul; not utterly unknown While in the Body lodged, her warm abode; But from what world She came, what woe or weal
On her departure waits, no tongue hath shown;
This mystery if the Stranger can reveal, His be a welcome cordially bestowed!"
PROMPT transformation works the novel Lore; The Council closed, the Priest in full career Rides forth, an armèd man, and hurls a spear To desecrate the Fane which heretofore He served in folly. Woden falls, and Thor Is overturned; the mace, in battle heaved (So might they dream) till victory was achieved, Drops, and the God himself is seen no more. Temple and Altar sink, to hide their shame Amid oblivious weeds. "O come to me, Ye heavy laden!" such the inviting voice Heard near fresh streams; and thousands, who rejoice
In the new Rite-the pledge of sanctity,
Blest be the unconscious shore on which ye Shall, by regenerate life, the promise claim.
BUT, to remote Northumbria's royal Hall, Where thoughtful Edwin, tutored in the school Of sorrow, still maintains a heathen rule, Who comes with functions apostolical? Mark him, of shoulders curved, and stature tall, Black hair, and vivid eye, and meagre cheek, His prominent feature like an eagle's beak ; A Man whose aspect doth at once appal And strike with reverence. The Monarch leans Toward the pure truths this Delegate propounds, Repeatedly his own deep mind he sounds With careful hesitation, then convenes A synod of his Councillors :-give ear, And what a pensive Sage doth utter, hear!
NOR Scorn the aid which Fancy oft doth lend The Soul's eternal interests to promote : Death, darkness, danger, are our natural lot; And evil Spirits may our walk attend For aught the wisest know or comprehend; Then be good Spirits free to breathe a note Of elevation; let their odours float Around these Converts; and their glories blend, The midnight stars outshining, or the blaze Of the noon-day. Nor doubt that golden cords Of good works, mingling with the visions, raise The Soul to purer worlds: and who the line Shall draw, the limits of the power define, That even imperfect faith to man affords?
PRIMITIVE SAXON CLERGY.
How beautiful your presence, how benign, Servants of God! who not a thought will share With the vain world; who, outwardly as bare That the firm soul is clothed with fruit divine! As winter trees, yield no fallacious sign Such Priest, when service worthy of his care Has called him forth to breathe the common air, Might seem a saintly Image from its shrine The Apparition; evil thoughts are stayed Descended-happy are the eyes that meet At his approach, and low-bowed necks entreat A benediction from his voice or hand; Whence grace, through which the heart can understand,
And Vows, that bind the will, in silence made.
Ан, when the Body, round which in love we clung,
Is chilled by death, does mutual service fail?
Of a long life; and, in the hour of death, The last dear service of thy passing breath! *
SAXON MONASTERIES, AND LIGHTS AND SHADES OF THE RELIGION.
By such examples moved to unbought pains, The people work like congregated bees; Eager to build the quiet Fortresses Where Piety, as they believe, obtains From Heaven a general blessing; timely rains Or needful sunshine; prosperous enterprise, Justice and peace:-bold faith! yet also rise The sacred Structures for less doubtful gains. The Sensual think with reverence of the palms Which the chaste Votaries seek, beyond the grave;
If penance be redeemable, thence alms
LANCE, shield, and sword relinquished-at his Flow to the poor, and freedom to the slave;
A bead-roll, in his hand a clasped book, Or staff more harmless than a shepherd's crook, The war-worn Chieftain quits the world-to hide His thin autumnal locks where Monks abide In cloistered privacy. But not to dwell In soft repose he comes. Within his cell, Round the decaying trunk of human pride, At morn, and eve, and midnight's silent hour, Do penitential cogitations cling; Like ivy, round some ancient elm, they twine In grisly folds and strictures serpentine; Yet, while they strangle, a fair growth they bring,
For recompence-their own perennial bower.
METHINKS that to some vacant hermitage My feet would rather turn- to some dry nook Scooped out of living rock, and near a brook Hurled down a mountain-cove from stage to stage,
Yet tempering, for my sight, its bustling rage In the soft heaven of a translucent pool; Thence creeping under sylvan arches cool, Fit haunt of shapes whose glorious equipage Would elevate my dreams. A beechen bowl, A maple dish, my furniture should be; Crisp, yellow leaves my bed; the hooting owl My night-watch: nor should e'er the crested
From thorp or vill his matins sound for me, Tired of the world and all its industry.
BUT what if One, through grove or flowery mead,
Indulging thus at will the creeping feet Of a voluptuous indolence, should meet Thy hovering Shade, O venerable Bede! The saint, the scholar, from a circle freed Of toil stupendous, in a hallowed seat
Of learning, where thou heard'st the billows beat On a wild coast, rough monitors to feed Perpetual industry. Sublime Recluse! The recreant soul, that dares to shun the debt Imposed on human kind, must first forget Thy diligence, thy unrelaxing use
And if full oft the Sanctuary save Lives black with guilt, ferocity it calms.
MISSIONS AND TRAVELS.
NOT sedentary all: there are who roam To scatter seeds of life on barbarous shores; Or quit with zealous step their knee-worn floors To seek the general mart of Christendom; Whence they, like richly-laden merchants, come To their beloved cells :-or shall we say That, like the Red-cross Knight, they urge their way,
To lead in memorable triumph home Truth, their immortal Una? Babylon, Learned and wise, hath perished utterly, Nor leaves her Speech one word to aid the sigh That would lament her;- Memphis, Tyre, are
BEHOLD a pupil of the monkish gown, The pious ALFRED, King to Justice dear! Lord of the harp and liberating spear; Mirror of Princes! Indigent Renown Might range the starry ether for a crown Equal to his deserts, who, like the year, Pours forth his bounty, like the day doth cheer, And awes like night with mercy-tempered frown, Ease from this noble miser of his time
No moment steals; pain narrows not his cares. Though small his kingdom as a spark or gem, Of Alfred boasts remote Jerusalem,
And Christian India, through her wide-spread clime,
In sacred converse gifts with Alfred shares.
WHEN thy great soul was freed from mortal chains,
Darling of England! many a bitter shower Fell on thy tomb; but emulative power Flowed in thy line through undegenerate veins. The Race of Alfred covet glorious pains
He expired dictating the last words of a translation of St John's Gospel.
When dangers threaten, dangers ever new! Black tempests bursting, blacker still in view! But manly sovereignty its hold retains ; The root sincere, the branches bold to strive With the fierce tempest, while, within the round Of their protection, gentle virtues thrive; As oft, 'mid some green plot of open ground. Wide as the oak extends its dewy gloom, The fostered hyacinths spread their purple bloom.
URGED by Ambition, who with subtlest skill Changes her means, the Enthusiast as a dupe Shall soar, and as a hypocrite can stoop, And turn the instruments of good to ill, Moulding the credulous people to his will. Such DUNSTAN:-from its Benedictine coop Issues the master Mind, at whose fell swoop The chaste affections tremble to fulfil Their purposes. Behold, pre-signified,
Hark! 'tis the tolling Curfew-the stars shine; But of the lights that cherish household cares And festive gladness, burns not one that dares To twinkle after that dull stroke of thine, Emblem and instrument, from Thames to Tyne, Of force that daunts, and cunning that ensnares! Yet as the terrors of the lordly bell, That quench, from hut to palace, lamps and fires, Touch not the tapers of the sacred quires; Even so a thraldom, studious to expel Old laws, and ancient customs to derange, To Creed or Ritual brings no fatal change.
COLDLY we spake. The Saxons, overpowered By wrong triumphant through its own excess, From fields laid waste, from house and home devoured
By flames, look up to heaven and crave redress From God's eternal justice. Pitiless Though men be, there are angels that can feel
The Might of 'spiritual sway! his thoughts, his For wounds that death alone has power to heal,
Do in the supernatural world abide :
So vaunt a throng of Followers, filled with pride In what they see of virtues pushed to extremes, And sorceries of talent misapplied.
A PLEASANT music floats along the Mere, From Monks in Ely chanting service high, While-as Canùte the King is rowing by : "My Oarsmen,' quoth the mighty King, "draw near,
That we the sweet song of the Monks may hear!"
He listens (all past conquests and all schemes Of future vanishing like empty dreams) Heart-touched, and haply not without a tear. The Royal Minstrel, ere the choir is still, While his free Barge skims the smooth flood along,
Gives to that rapture an accordant Rhyme. O suffering Earth! be thankful; sternest clime And rudest age are subject to the thrill Of heaven-descended Piety and Song.
For penitent guilt, and innocent distress. And has a Champion risen in arms to try His Country's virtue, fought, and breathes no
As with the Stream our voyage we pursue, The gross materials of this world present A marvellous study of wild accident; Uncouth proximities of old and new ; And bold transfigurations, more untrue (As might be deemed) to disciplined intent Than aught the sky's fantastic element, When most fantastic, offers to the view. Saw we not Henry scourged at Becket's shrine? Lo! John self-stripped of his insignia:-crown, Sceptre and mantle, sword and ring, laid down At a proud Legate's feet! The spears that line Baronial halls the opprobrious insult feel; And angry Ocean roars a vain appeal.
BLACK Demons hovering o'er his mitred head, To Cæsar's Successor the Pontiff spake ; "Ere I absolve thee, stoop! that on thy neck Levelled with earth this foot of mine may
How soon-alas! did Man, created pure- By Angels guarded, deviate from the line Prescribed to duty:-woeful forfeiture He made by wilful breach of law divine. With like perverseness did the Church abjure Obedience to her Lord, and haste to twine, 'Mid Heaven-born flowers that shall for aye endure,
Weeds on whose front the world had fixed her sign.
O Man,-if with thy trials thus it fares, If good can smooth the way to evil choice, From all rash censure be the mind kept free; He only judges right who weighs, compares, And, in the sternest sentence which his voice Pronounces, ne'er abandons Charity.
And Chastity finds many a sheltering bower. Realm there is none that if controul'd or sway'd By her commands partakes not, in degree, Of good, o'er manners, arts, and arms, diffused: Yes, to thy domination, Roman See, He, whose strong arm the Orient could not Tho' miserably, oft monstrously, abused
Then he, who to the altar had been led,
By blind ambition, be this tribute paid.
CISTERTIAN MONASTERY.
"HERE Man more purely lives, less oft doth fall,
More promptly rises, walks with stricter 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.
DEPLORABLE his lot who tills the ground, His whole life long tills it, with heartless toil Cf villain-service, passing with the soil To each new Master, like a steer or hound, Or like a rooted tree, or stone earth-bound; But mark how gladly, through their own do- mains,
The Monks relax or break these iron chains; While Mercy, uttering, through their voice, a sound
Echoed in Heaven, cries out, "Ye Chiefs, abate These legalized oppressions! Man-whose name And nature God disdained not; Man-whose soul
Christ died for-cannot forfeit his high claim To live and move exempt from all controul Which fellow-feeling doth not mitigate!"
RECORD We too, with just and faithful 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 humbler 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.
FURL we the sails, and pass with tardy oars Through these bright regions, casting many a glance
Upon the dream-like issues-the romance Of many-coloured life that 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 un- daunted,
When she would tell how Brave, and Good, and Wise,
For their high guerdon not in vain have panted!
As faith thus sanctified the warrior's crest While from the Papal Unity there came, What feebler means had fail'd to give, one aim Diffused thro' all the regions of the West; So does her Unity its power attest
By works of Art, that shed, on the outward
Of worship, glory and grace, which who shall blame
That ever looked to heaven for final rest? Hail countless Temples! that so well befit Your ministry; that, as ye rise and take Form, spirit, and character, from holy writ, Give to devotion, wheresoe'er awake, Pinions of high and higher sweep, and make The unconverted soul with awe submit.
Where long and deeply hath been fixed the root In the blest soil of gospel truth, the Tree, (Blighted or scathed tho' many branches be, Put forth to wither, many a hopeful shoot) Can never cease to bear celestial fruit. Witness the Church that oft-times, with effect Dear to the saints, strives earnestly to eject Her bane, her vital energies recruit. Lamenting, do not hopelessly repine When such good work is doomed to be undone, The conquests lost that were so hardly won: All promises vouchsafed by Heaven will shine In light confirmed while years their course shall
Confirmed alike in progress and decline.
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