MEN, who have ceased to reverence, soon defy, Their forefathers; lo! sects are formed, and split With morbid restlessness; -- the ecstatic fit Spreads wide; though special mysteries multiply, 'The Saints must govern', is their common cry; And so they labour, deeming Holy Writ Disgraced by aught that seems content to sit Beneath the roof of settled Modesty. The Romanist exults; fresh hope he draws From the confusion, craftily incites The overweening, personates the mad -- To heap disgust upon the worthier Cause: Totters the Throne; the new-born Church is sad, For every wave against her peace unites. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...HERO-WORSHIP; SONNET by AMY LOWELL A HYMN FOR PROCESSION WITH CROSS AND BANNERS by SABINE BARING-GOULD A BOOK OF AIRS: SONG 3. AMARYLLIS by THOMAS CAMPION MORTAL COMBAT by MARY ELIZABETH COLERIDGE A SONG FROM THE COPTIC by JOHANN WOLFGANG VON GOETHE |