"Nought loves another as itself, Nor venerates another so, Nor is it possible to thought A greater than itself to know. "And, father, how can I love you Or any of my brothers more? I love you like the little bird That picks up crumbs around the door." The Priest sat by and heard the child; In trembling zeal he seized his hair, He led him by his little coat, And all admired the priestly care. And standing on the altar high, "Lo, what a fiend is here! said he: "One who sets reason up for judge Of our most holy mystery." The weeping child could not be heard, The weeping parents wept in vain: They stripped him to his little shirt, And bound him in an iron chain, And burned him in a holy place Where many had been burned before; The weeping parents wept in vain. Are such thing done on Albion's shore? | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE CANDLE INDOORS by GERARD MANLEY HOPKINS THE DEPARTURE OF THE SWALLOW by WILLIAM HOWITT SESTINA OF THE TRAMP ROYAL by RUDYARD KIPLING UNDERNEATH THE BOUGH by FRANKLIN PIERCE ADAMS THE COMING OF HIS FEET by LYMAN WHITNEY ALLEN TO MR. BARBAULD, WITH A MAP OF THE LAND OF MATRIMONY by ANNA LETITIA BARBAULD |