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Even so, in many a reconstructed fane,
Even in her own despite, both feed and cheer; For all things are less dreadful than they seem.
TEMPTATIONS FROM ROMAN REFINEMENTS.
WATCH, and be firm! for soul-subduing vice,
Your love of Him upon whose forehead sate
The crown of thorns; whose life-blood flowed, the
Of your redemption. Shun the insidious arts
That Rome provides, less dreading from her frown Than from her wily praise, her peaceful gown, Language, and letters; these, though fondly
As humanizing graces, are but parts
And instruments of deadliest servitude!
THAT heresies should strike (if truth be scanned
Lo! Discord at the altar dares to stand,
STRUGGLE OF THE BRITONS AGAINST THE BARBARIANS.
RISE! - they have risen: of brave Aneurin ask
Upon the Patriots, animates their task;
Of Arthur, bearing through the stormy field
The Virgin sculptured on his Christian shield: --Stretched in the sunny light of victory bask
The Host that followed Urien as he strode
O'er heaps of slain ; from Cambrian wood and
Druids descend, auxiliars of the Cross;
Bards, nursed on blue Plinlimmon's still abode,. Rush on the fight, to harps preferring swords, And everlasting deeds to burning words!
NOR wants the cause the panic-striking aid
Of Pagan night. Afflicted and dismayed,
Whose arts and honors in the dust are laid
By men yet scarcely conscious of a care
For other monuments than those of Earth;
Of long-drawn rampart, witness what they were.
* See Note.
MONASTERY OF OLD BANGOR.*
THE oppression of the tumult,—wrath and scorn,— The tribulation, and the gleaming blades,Such is the impetuous spirit that pervades
of Taliesin; song
Ours shall mourn
The unarmed Host who by their prayers would
The sword from Bangor's walls, and guard the store Of Aboriginal and Roman lore,
And Christian monuments, that now must burn To senseless ashes. Mark! how all things swerve From their known course, or vanish like a dream; Another language spreads from coast to coast; Only perchance some melancholy Stream
And some indignant Hills old names preserve, When laws, and creeds, and people all are lost!
A BRIGHT-HAIRED company of youthful slaves,
His wing who could seem lovelier to man's eye Than they appear to holy Gregory;
Who, having learnt that name, salvation craves For them, and for their Land. The earnest Sire, His questions urging, feels, in slender ties
Of chiming sound, commanding sympathies;
he would save them from God's IRE;
Subjects of Saxon ÆLLA, they shall sing
FOR ever hallowed be this morning fair,
Of Ignorance, that ran so rough and high,