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. 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?
"MAN'S life is like a Sparrow, mighty King! "That-while at banquet with your Chiefs you sit "Housed near a blazing fire-is seen to flit "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 +!"
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 As winter trees, yield no fallacious sign
That the firm soul is clothed with fruit divine! 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 Descended:-happy are the eyes that meet The Apparition; evil thoughts are stayed 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.
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
Aн, when the Body, round which in love we clung, Is chilled by death, does mutual service fail? Is tender pity then of no avail?
Are intercessions of the fervent tongue
A waste of hope?-From this sad source have Rites that console the Spirit, under grief [sprung Which ill can brook more rational relief: Hence, prayers are shaped amiss, and dirges sung For Souls whose doom is fixed! The way is smooth For Power that travels with the human heart:
Heard near fresh streams; and thousands, who Confession ministers the pang to soothe
LANCE, shield, and sword relinquished at his side 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.
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 Flow to the poor, and freedom to the slave; And if full oft the Sanctuary save
Lives black with guilt, ferocity it calms.
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 fowl From thorp or vill his matins sound for me, Tired of the world and all its industry.
Nor 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 gone With all their Arts,-but classic lore glides on By these Religious saved for all posterity.
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 Of a long life ; and, in the hour of death, The last dear service of thy passing breath*!
* He expired dictating the last words of a translation of St. John's Gospel.
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 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.
'My Oarsmen," quoth the mighty King, " draw "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.
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,
THE NORMAN CONQUEST. THE Woman-hearted Confessor prepares The evanescence of the Saxon line. 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,
The Might of spiritual sway! his thoughts, his That quench, from hut to palace, lamps and fires,
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.
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.
WOE to the Crown that doth the Cowl obey* ! Dissension, checking arms that would restrain The incessant Rovers of the northern main, Helps to restore and spread a Pagan sway: But Gospel-truth is potent to allay Fierceness and rage; and soon the cruel Dane Feels, through the influence of her gentle reign, His native superstitions melt away.
Thus, often, when thick gloom the east o'ershrouds, The full-orbed Moon, slow-climbing, doth appear Silently to consume the heavy clouds; How no one can resolve; but every eye Around her sees, while air is hushed, a clear And widening circuit of ethereal sky.
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 For wounds that death alone has power to heal, For penitent guilt, and innocent distress. And has a Champion risen in arms to try His Country's virtue, fought, and breathes no more; Him in their hearts the people canonize; And far above the mine's most precious ore The least small pittance of bare mould they prize Scooped from the sacred earth where his dear relics
THE COUNCIL OF CLERMONT.
"AND shall," the Pontiff asks, "profaneness flow "From Nazareth-source of Christian piety, "From Bethlehem, from the Mounts of Agony "And glorified Ascension? Warriors, go, "With prayers and blessings we your path will sow; "Like Moses hold our hands erect, till ye "Have chased far off by righteous victory "These sons of Amalek, or laid them low!""GOD WILLETH IT," the whole assembly cry; Shout which the enraptured multitude astounds! The Council-roof and Clermont's towers reply ;"God willeth it," from hill to hill rebounds, And, in awe-stricken Countries far and nigh, Through Nature's hollow arch' that voice resounds *.
REALMS quake by turns: proud Arbitress of grace, The Church, by mandate shadowing forth the power
She arrogates o'er heaven's eternal door, Closes the gates of every sacred place. Straight from the sun and tainted air's embrace All sacred things are covered: cheerful morn Grows sad as night-no seemly garb is worn, Nor is a face allowed to meet a face With natural smiles of greeting. Bells are dumb; Ditches are graves-funereal rites denied ; And in the church-yard he must take his bride Who dares be wedded! Fancies thickly come Into the pensive heart ill fortified,
And comfortless despairs the soul benumb.
THE turbaned Race are poured in thickening swarms Along the west; though driven from Aquitaine, The Crescent glitters on the towers of Spain; And soft Italia feels renewed alarms; The scimitar, that yields not to the charms Of ease, the narrow Bosphorus will disdain; Nor long (that crossed) would Grecian hills detain Their tents, and check the current of their arms. Then blame not those who, by the mightiest lever Known to the moral world, Imagination, Upheave, so seems it, from her natural station All Christendom :-they sweep along (was never So huge a host !)-to tear from the Unbeliever The precious Tomb, their haven of salvation.
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.
REDOUBTED King, of courage leonine, I mark thee, Richard! urgent to equip Thy warlike person with the staff and scrip; I watch thee sailing o'er the midland brine; In conquered Cyprus see thy Bride decline Her blushing cheek, love-vows upon her lip, And see love-emblems streaming from thy ship, As thence she holds her way to Palestine. My Song, a fearless homager, would attend Thy thundering battle-axe as it cleaves the press Of war, but duty summons her away To tell-how, finding in the rash distress Of those Enthusiasts a subservient friend,
To giddier heights hath clomb the Papal sway.
* The decision of this council was believed to be instantly known in remote parts of Europe.
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 tread." Then he, who to the altar had been led, He, whose strong arm the Orient could not check, He, who had held the Soldan at his beck, Stooped, of all glory disinherited, And even the common dignity of man!— Amazement strikes the crowd: while many turn Their eyes away in sorrow, others burn With scorn, invoking a vindictive ban From outraged Nature; but the sense of most
In abject sympathy with power is lost.
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, Perplex the wise, the strong to overthrow; Through earth and heaven to bind and to unbind! Resist the thunder quails thee!--crouch-rebuff Shall be thy recompence! 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!
"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.
TO THE CLOSE OF THE TROUBLES IN THE REIGN OF CHARLES L.
How soon-alas! did Man, created pureBy 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.
From false assumption rose, and fondly hail'd By superstition, spread the Papal power; Yet do not deem the Autocracy prevail'd Thus only, even in error's darkest hour. She daunts, forth-thundering from her spiritual Brute rapine, or with gentle lure she tames. Justice and Peace through Her uphold their claims; 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, Tho' miserably, oft monstrously, abused By blind ambition, be this tribute paid.
DEPLORABLE his lot who tills the ground, His whole life long tills it, with heartless toil Of 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 domains, The Monks relax or break these iron chains; While Mercy, uttering, through their voice, a sound Echoed in Heaven, cries out, "Ye Chiefs, abate And nature God disdained not; Man-whose soul These legalized oppressions! Man-whose name Christ died for-cannot forfeit his high claim To live and move exempt from all controul Which fellow-feeling doth not mitigate!"
MONKS AND SCHOOLMEN.
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.
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