VI.

PERSECUTION OF THE SCOTTISH COVENANTERS.

WHEN Alpine Vales threw forth a suppliant cry,
The majesty of England interposed

And the sword stopped; the bleeding wounds were closed;

And Faith preserved her ancient purity.

How little boots that precedent of good,

Scorned or forgotten, Thou canst testify,

For England's shame, O Sister Realm! from wood,
Mountain, and moor, and crowded street, where lie
The headless martyrs of the Covenant,

Slain by Compatriot-protestants that draw

From councils senseless as intolerant

Their warrant. Bodies fall by wild sword-law;
But who would force the Soul, tilts with a straw
Against a Champion cased in adamant.

VII.

ACQUITTAL OF THE BISHOPS.

A VOICE, from long-expecting thousands sent,
Shatters the air, and troubles tower and spire;
For Justice hath absolved the innocent,
And Tyranny is balked of her desire :
Up, down, the busy Thames-rapid as fire
Coursing a train of gunpowder-it went,
And transport finds in every street a vent,
Till the whole City rings like one vast quire.

The Fathers urge the People to be still,

With outstretched hands and earnest speech-in vain!

Yea, many, haply wont to entertain

Small reverence for the mitre's offices,
And to Religion's self no friendly will,

A Prelate's blessing ask on bended knees.

VIII.

WILLIAM THE THIRD.

CALM as an under-current, strong to draw
Millions of waves into itself, and run,
From sea to sea, impervious to the sun
And ploughing storm, the spirit of Nassau
(By constant impulse of religious awe
Swayed, and thereby enabled to contend
With the wide world's commotions) from its end
Swerves not-diverted by a casual law.
Had mortal action e'er a nobler scope?

The Hero comes to liberate, not defy;

And, while he marches on with righteous hope, Conqueror beloved! expected anxiously!

The vacillating Bondman of the Pope

Shrinks from the verdict of his steadfast eye.

IX.

OBLIGATIONS OF CIVIL TO RELIGIOUS LIBERTY.

UNGRATEFUL Country, if thou e'er forget
The sons who for thy civil rights have bled!
How, like a Roman, Sidney bowed his head,
And Russel's milder blood the scaffold wet;
But These had fallen for profitless regret
Had not thy holy Church her champions bred,
And claims from other worlds inspirited

The star of Liberty to rise. Nor yet

(Grave this within thy heart!) if spiritual things Be lost, through apathy, or scorn, or fear,

Shalt thou thy humbler franchises support,
However hardly won or justly dear :

What came from heaven to heaven by nature clings,

And, if dissevered thence, its course is short.

X.

Down a swift Stream, thus far, a bold design
Have we pursued, with livelier stir of heart
Than his who sees, borne forward by the Rhine,
The living landscapes greet him, and depart;
Sees spires fast sinking-up again to start!
And strives the towers to number, that recline
O'er the dark steeps, or on the horizon line
Striding with shattered crests the eye athwart.
So have we hurried on with troubled pleasure :
Henceforth, as on the bosom of a stream

That slackens, and spreads wide a watery gleam,
We, nothing loth a lingering course to measure,
May gather up our thoughts, and mark at leisure
Features that else had vanished like a dream.