Greece reared to us her gorgeous dome,-
To us hath bowed almighty Rome-
And the cold Celt, in northern climes,
To us would consecrate his crimes.
Alas! those palmy days are past!
Truth reässerts her throne at last!
Truth, we so stoutly held at bay,
Pours in, at last, the unwelcome day!
No more in narrow bounds confined
She struggles with the recreant mind,
But sends her heralds to proclaim

At once her triumph and our shame!"

XIV.

46

We've proved how vain is

open force

To check the bright invader's course;

How vain to strive with him whose eye

O'erlooks the scrolls of Destiny ;39

Henceforth be humbler schemes our care, The power, we may not crush, to share.

Thither, where first on Grecian ground

The rival God a shrine hath found,

Thither myself will speed, to try
Each aid my ancient wiles supply;
Veiling in flattering speech my wrath,
Myself will dog the Apostle's path ;
And borrow woman's form and tone,
The messenger of heaven 31 to own.
Thus enmity, in smiles concealed,

Shall gain the power it seems to yield ;-
Our empire thus confirmed will stand,

And Jove and Jesus share the land."

XV.

But if-for ah, I know too well

That man hath power to counter-spell

The best laid stratagems of Hell,

If, with unwonted terror shook,

I quail before his stern rebuke,
Cast we the specious mask aside,
And fairly be the battle tried!

Thou too 32 must prosper our design,
Pale Genius of the sunless mine!

'Tis thine to fire the callous priest,
Of every thrall, but thine, released,
Who smiles when simpler mortals pray;
He serves the Gods-but serves for pay,
And, heedless if they bless or ban,

Makes traffic of the soul of man:

But, when, should hostile Truth prevail,

His sordid hope of gain shall fail,

How loudly will he prate of zeal,

And feign, what he hath ceased to feel!

How will he spur the vulgar throng

To deeds of violence and wrong;

And hurl to exile or to death

The teachers of the rebel faith!"

XVI.

Never! upon your bootless craft

The Dweller of the heavens 33 hath laughed

Hath laughed to scorn your feeble rage,

That dares such frantic strife to wage!

What?-will ye share the throne with Him,

When cherubim and seraphim

With veiled eyes adore him?

And think ye, haughty Gnomes, to shed
Destruction on the meanest head

Of mortal man, when God hath spread

His sheltering pinions o'er him?

Never!-Eternal truth is plight

To shield her injured servants' right;

Their faith's foundation 34 standeth sure,

Long as those characters endure,

Sealed deep upon the living stone,

his own."

"God knows, and will avenge
As yon pure planet walks on high
In glory through the midnight sky,
The Christian holds his way serene,
Smiling on life's beclouded scene,
And making very darkness bright

With beautiful though borrowed light.

PART III.

THE PRISON.

I.

KNOW ye the hushed and awful still,
While the storm gathers on the hill;
As if that cloud's portentous gloom
Were pregnant with Creation's doom;
And Nature watched in mute suspense

The fiat of Omnipotence ?

There is no whisper on the breeze,—

No ripple on the lake ;

E'en the slight tremble of the trees

No murmur seems to make.

It comes 'tis past!—and hill and plain Laugh into threefold light again!

The lake hath caught a clearer blue;

The meadow wears a greener hue;