XXXII. COLDLY we spake. The Saxons, overpowered Though men be, there are angels that can feel 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 lie. XXXIII. THE COUNCIL OF CLERMONT. "AND shall," the Pontiff asks, "profaneness flow "With prayers and blessings we your path will sow; Through Nature's hollow arch' that voice resounds*. * The decision of this council was believed to be instantly known in remote parts of Europe. VOL. IV. XXXIV. CRUSADES. THE turbaned Race are poured in thickening swarms The scimitar, that yields not to the charms XXXV. RICHARD I. REDOUBTED King, of courage leonine, To tell-how, finding in the rash distress To giddier heights hath clomb the Papal sway. XXXVI. AN INTERDICT. 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 With natural smile of greeting. Bells are dumb; And comfortless despairs the soul benumb. |