CANUTE. A PLEASANT music floats along the Mere, "My Oarsmen," quoth the mighty King, "draw near, That we the sweet song of the Monks may hear!" XXXI. THE NORMAN CONQUEST. THE woman-hearted Confessor prepares Hark! 't is the tolling Curfew! - the stars shine; *Which is still extant. To twinkle after that dull stroke of thine, That quench, from hut to palace, lamps and fires, XXXII. 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 And has a Champion risen in arms to try 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 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.* XXXIV. CRUSADES. 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 decision of this Council was believed to be instantly known in remote parts of Europe. The cimeter, that yields not to the charms XXXV. RICHARD I. REDOUBTED King, of courage leonine, To tell how, finding in the rash distress Of those Enthusiasts a subservient friend, 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, Straight from the sun and tainted air's embrace Nor is a face allowed to meet a face With natural smiles of greeting. Bells are dumb; funeral rites denied; And in the churchyard he must take his bride Who dares be wedded! Fancies thickly come Into the pensive heart ill fortified, And comfortless despairs the soul benumb. XXXVII. PAPAL ABUSES. As with the Stream our voyage we pursue, |