XXVII.

HIS DESCENDANTS.

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.

XXVIII.

INFLUENCE ABUSED.

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 Might of spiritual sway! his thoughts, his dreams,

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.

XXIX.

DANISH CONQUESTS.

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.

* See Note.

A PLEASANT music floats along the Mere,
From Monks in Ely chanting service high,
While-as Canute 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.

*Which is still extant.

XXXI.

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,

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.